Dark Duck Y1: Left Wing
by VAPX007
Summary: Revamped with prologue & clearer chapter titles. Welcome to the complicated world of 17 year old Gosalyn Mallard. Freelance crimefighter, long-term casual S.H.U.S.H. operative, school student and absentee big sister/daughter/best friend. After The Quiverwing Quack loses a fight against F.O.W.L., Gosalyn wakes up to find her toughest challenge lies directly ahead of her. COMPLETE
1. Prologue

_A/N: I own nothing, Disney owns Darkwing Duck and my imagination owns me._

_A/n: The rest of this story is from Gosalyn's POV, hence this part is in italics._

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><p>PROLOGUE<p>

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><p><em>The lights in the Blue Parrot cabaret lounge were dim. There were no acts on tonight so the red curtain was drawn and only a few of the round tables had occupants. Mostly they were older people telling each other 'it's been such a long time'.<em>

_The lounge was in two parts: a round 'pit' area beneath the stage and then a raised 'bridge' area at the back. To protect anyone falling down from the bridge into the pit there was a banister railing and to protect the club from being ever considered distasteful, a line of dwarfed golden cane palms shrouded the banister._

_What Steelbeak liked about sitting in the cushioned seat beneath the palms was the quarter of privacy they afforded. And__ even without the live entertainment, Steelbeak knew he could excuse himself for being here because Sheila worked here. _

* * *

><p><em>"Explain the factory scene to me again." The familiar voice of his boss said from behind his head.<em>

_Steelbeak took a deep breath and stared into his empty wine glass at the round cabaret table he was sitting at. "Well, it's kind of like it was the last time I explained it, boss."__  
><em>"I'm sure it 'kind of' is." The dark male voice replied in an unimpressed tone from amidst the plant fronds behind.<em>  
><em>Steelbeak swallowed. "The point is that your queen is still on the board, right?"<em>_

_"And again I ask you: 'what was the challenge?' You used a tranquilizer dart, Steelbeak; you could not have been getting her out of the way just for your little S.H.U.S.H. decoy scheme."__  
><em>"Decoy, nothing. I lost three guys in that factory." Steelbeak answered. "I don't know what got them: I was downstairs playing tag with Miss Purple."<em>_

_"How convenient."__  
><em>"No it ain't!" Steelbeak snapped back. "Why don't you tell me what I'm supposed to be knowing and I'll tell it back to you? And you know S.H.U.S.H. is still watching me-."<em>  
><em>"I do not need that reminder!" His boss said with high irritation from behind him.<em>  
><em>"Hey, is this Griz or Hooter you're mad at coz at least I got proof that I done my job."<em>  
><em>"He says with sincere confidence." The voice captioned sardonically. "What warning did you get about this thing that got your men?"<em>_

_Steelbeak rubbed the prickling feeling at the back of his neck. "They were just yelling about someone up there with them. Then the line cut out. I had two moves to choose from."__  
><em>"And you chose to protect the queen."<em>  
><em>"The line cut out." Steelbeak repeated. "You tell me if I was wrong."<em>  
><em>"I don't employ you to be wrong, Steelbeak."<em>  
><em>"So I figured when we started this little chess game." Steelbeak answered dryly.<em>_

_"I find myself wondering, Steelbeak, ... endlessly mind you ... over exactly how conservative you thought you were being at that factory."__  
><em>Steelbeak thought about that. "It was a close call, boss."<em>  
><em>"Ah, well, close calls do come with greater favour in the eyes of F.O.W.L."<em>  
><em>Steelbeak smiled in satisfaction. "Yeah."<em>_

_"So what did you have your close call with?"__  
><em>"Five minutes later and I still don't know!" Steelbeak complained, "Someone or some guy or something. I don't know; why the heck do you keep coming at me for?"<em>_

_"Because I've lost him."_

_"Wow." Steelbeak breathed. That was not something his boss usually cared to admit.__  
><em>"The most I have of him right now is in your head."<em>  
><em>"Yep, that's pretty gone alright." Steelbeak commiserated, "Sorry, boss."<em>  
><em>"Oh! You insist on infuriating me, Steelbeak!" The voice gritted from behind. "I know you have more!"<em>_

_"Hooter's sticking in your craw the worst though." Steelbeak deflected, "Why'd they get rid of him anyway?"__  
><em>"S.H.U.S.H. central command wants to 'move into the future'."<em>  
><em>"Newsflash; Grizlykoff is my age and on the downhill curve. You should probably get in there and rewire those jokers."<em>  
><em>"Do you really care about whether S.H.U.S.H. does a good job or not?" His boss laughed quietly behind.<em>_

_"Heck no!" Steelbeak answered, "But this decoy gig won't last forever and S.H.U.S.H. can't even figure out my decoy plots without The Quiverwing Quack and she's about ready to keel over."__  
><em>"She has keeled over; you're the one who sent her off the board!"<em>  
><em>Steelbeak paused to assess what this meant to him, "I'll have to retire."<em>_

_"No."_

_"What?" Steelbeak exclaimed, "You can't tell me I can't retire! What are you? You're a voice in a bush!"__  
><em>"Not about that." His boss answered, "Although I still do require your services."<em>  
><em>__"It'll never be the end of it," ____Steelbeak sighed defeatedly, "So then you'll be out to rewire S.H.U.S.H.."__

_There was a thoughtful pause from behind him, "They only need to see Grizlykoff for the pawn he is and not the bishop they imagine."__  
><em>"Hey, it's an easy play," Steelbeak added, "When are they having Hooter's retirement party?"<em>  
><em>"This Saturday." The voice of his boss chuckled from behind his head. "An excellent idea; F.O.W.L. will simply love you for it."<em>_


	2. Ch 1 Left Soup

**_Menu_**

_'The soup of the day'  
>This dish was made using Irual's (let's say) 'unusual' recipe for Mushroom Soup but in this case I let Gosalyn make a suitable name for it.<em>

_'Slushroom Soup'  
>This soup has a lovely, creamy texture and a mild mushroomy flavour. This <em>is definitely not a dish for the vegetarian at heart.<em>  
>Lactose free.<em>

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><p>CHAPTER ONE<p>

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><p><strong>Left Wing<strong>

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><p><em>(Mid <em>Thursday <em>Afternoon)_

Gosalyn woke up in her bed at home. "Ungh." She muttered as the world slowly came back into focus. "Dad?" She saw his face staring down at her. "You're late."

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." A look of guilt passed over his features. "I know it's probably a stupid thing to ask at this point but how are you feeling, hon?" He put his hand on her forehead. It felt reassuring to feel his touch.  
>"I feel ..." She worked to sit up and he helped her, propping her up on her pillows. "I feel like I've been hit with a tranquilizer dart loaded with four times the recommended dose."<br>"More like only two times the recommended dosage thank goodness."  
>Gosalyn worked her tongue against her parched beak. "Of all the things that were going kaflooey in that factory I get hit by Steelbeak's little dart."<br>"Here, sweetheart." Her father handed her a glass of water from her bedside table.  
>She took a long swig. "Uh, that's better."<p>

"Fortunately for all of us he was smart enough not to kill you." Drake smiled at Gosalyn as he took the empty glass away from her hand.  
>"Does that include Steelbeak, pops?"<br>Her father hesitated and turned his eyes away from her, clearing his throat as he paid excessive attention to putting the glass back on the table. Judging by his reaction, Gosalyn knew that 'all of us' did in fact include Steelbeak. It was basically a given that if she'd died, the rooster in question would be chef's special at Morgana's restaurant and it would have had very little to do with her mother. "I love you, dad."

He leaned forwards and hugged her. "My little girl." He said in a husky voice. "You're all grown up."  
>"Not yet, dad, and you're choking me!" He pulled back quickly and she smiled at him. "Easy, dad. I'm alright now." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "I'm still your little girl."<br>"I think that term is rather subjective since you're taller than me now." He brushed her fringe out of her eyes.  
>Gosalyn groaned. "Quit it with the mush, dad. How many days have I been out?"<br>"Three, but that's not the poi-"  
>"What about Steelbeak? Did you get there in time to stop F.O.W.L. setting off their little fireworks display?"<p>

He sat back. "Yes. It was as easy as coming in and switching it off because you'd already incapacitated most of the eggmen before you lost consciousness."  
>"Yeah?" Gosalyn frowned, struggling to remember the haze of red, white and yellow before she'd blacked out. "I sort of remember doing that."<br>"Gos, do you remember anything else before you blacked out?"

The tone he'd said it was grimly serious and Gosalyn felt her heart jolt in fear. "Why, what?"

A wave of dizziness swept over her.  
>"Oh, I'm sorry!" Drake grabbed both her arms. "You're alright, Gos, take it easy. Take a deep breath."<br>She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the dizzy spell went away.  
>"Wh-what happened to me, dad?"<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Slushroom Soup<strong>

* * *

><p>"You've been lying there out for the count for three days." Drake answered. "That's what's happened to you. I'm stupid to bring all this up before you've had a chance to get your strength back."<br>"It's me that brought up work." Gosalyn glared at him, getting annoyed. "Come on, dad, pass the ball already and stop blocking or I'll tackle you for it."  
>He chuckled and leaned forwards, kissing her on her forehead. "In that case you'll have to tackle me first, kiddo."<br>Gosalyn tried to make good on her threat and found she was aching just to lift her arms.  
>He watched her, an amused glint in his eye.<br>She sighed in defeat and sat back against her stack of pillows. "Alright, you win, dad." She narrowed her eyes at him. "This time."

"How about we go through this after some Slushroom soup?"  
>"That sounds fantastic, dad."<br>"That's my girl. Sensible mild-mannered Gosalyn."  
>"Oh, that means it must be daytime." She turned her head to the alarm clock on the table. "Three pm. I've missed school."<p>

"You can catch up." Drake helped her out of bed. He followed her into the corridor a little too closely for her comfort. She straightened and, pulling her customary 'you're overdoing it again, dad' face, she turned to him. "Chill out, dad. I was in bed for three days not three years."  
>"Okay, Gos, I've got the picture; I'm backing off." He took a reluctant step back. "Do tell me if you start feeling faint, okay? Because-."<br>"Yeah, yeah, I got it. I'll take it easy. Sheesh." Gosalyn turned back and confronted the stairs. "Three days, just three days and you're treating me like I'm a baby again."

"You'll always be my baby, Gosalyn." He objected with a choke in his voice. "That won't ever change."  
>Gosalyn grimaced at his words as she got to the bottom step. 'Thank goodness it's just soup. If it was a steak he'd be standing over me cutting it up for me.'<br>"You alright, hon?" Her father asked, always the overly protective father, always the overly observant detective.  
>It was a good job she was his daughter and was used to it. "It's nothing that some Slushroom soup won't fix, dad." She answered with a half-truth.<br>"I'm on it." He moved past her and zipped into the kitchen.  
>"I think I won't try tackling him for a while." She muttered, looking after him. "I'd better try and make it two bowls or I might never catch up to him again."<p>

Gosalyn crossed into the kitchen and sat down at the table as the microwave whirred in promise of warm food. Her stomach grumbled in high expectation and there was the tantalizing smell of toast wafting to her nostrils to make it worse. "I'm starving!"  
>"Glad to hear it because it's coming your way." Her father announced.<br>"Thanks, dad. That's a relief."


	3. Ch 1 Pie

_A/N: Whoa, you're still here! You, my friend, have an incredible attention span! Thanks for reading on! I hope you're enjoying this little conversation and that it's not just morbid curiosity that's making you hit the next button. Stay tuned for the next chapter!_

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><p><em>AN: This is a thing I hear my father call me sometimes. When I heard Darkwing say it to Morgana, I was agape. I think it uncanny that Darkwing and my dad share such a deeply profound reasoning. _

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><p><strong>Sweetie-Pie<strong>

* * *

><p>The toast landed on the plate in front of Gosalyn. "Thanks, dad!" She quickly spread margarine on it and chewed desperately into it.<p>

The microwave beeped. Drake turned back around and deposited the bowl of soup beside Gosalyn's plate. "Careful that one's hot."  
>"Nah, duh." Gosalyn snorted as she picked up her spoon and stirred the soup. She blew on the spoon and waited a few more moments before carefully putting the tip of it between her beak.<p>

"It's really good to see you awake, sweetie."  
>"Thanks, dad. It's very nice to be awake." She took another impatient bite of her toast, wishing her soup to hurry up and cool off so she could scoff it down properly.<br>"If my studies in social etiquette serve me correctly, the accompaniment of toast with soup is done for the intended purpose of complimenting each other."  
>"I just woke up, dad!" Gosalyn complained. "Can't you leave the culinary discussions for when mum's around?"<br>"Okay, sweetie-pie. Do you want more toast?"  
>"Maybe later." She took another spoon of soup and blew on it. "Are you going to have some?"<br>"Uh-no." He shook his head. "I've already eaten."

Gosalyn continued eating. "I guess I have a couple days of schoolwork to catch up on."  
>"You've got your textbooks, Gos. Two weeks off won't do much harm so long as you read up, and then it's term holidays."<br>She dropped her spoon into the bowl in shock. "I thought you said I was only out three days!"  
>"You were, honey. I'm talking about tomorrow and next week."<br>Gosalyn stared at her father's face in deep suspicion. "Alright, what is going on, dad?"  
>He sighed. "It's complicated."<br>"So is Honker's trans-dimensional travel theory ... now tell me!" She gritted.  
>"Finish your soup first, Gos, sweetie-pie."<br>"And then?" Gosalyn demanded.  
>Her father went red under his plumage. "Then I was actually hoping your mum will be home from her walk by then and will be able to explain everything to you."<br>Gosalyn groaned. "Da-ad!"


	4. Ch 1 Wing

**Under Wing**

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><p>Drake looked thoughtfully at Gosalyn. "Can you remember any more about the factory?"<br>"You're killing me, dad!" Gosalyn whined. "It was just an average, ordinary run-of-the-mill factory with your average bunch of abnormal F.O.W.L. operatives running amok. Why don't you tell me what I'm missing?"  
>"That's quite a way to put it." He glanced away from her. "Sweetie-pie ..."<br>"D'oh, every time you say 'sweetie-pie', I know you want me to calm down! You say it to mum when she's upset too!"  
>"So you have me sussed out, Q." He folded his arms. "But that doesn't change anything. It's hard to talk to you girls when you're not calm. Surely you can see that."<br>"Alright, dad. I give in." Gosalyn frowned at him and focused on finishing her soup.

Before she could get up to clear the table her father swept the dishes up and carried them off to the sink for her.  
>"Please tell me, dad." Gosalyn asked over the sound of running water.<br>"It probably is better that I tell you before your mother gets home." Drake said, changing his mind, much to Gosalyn's relief.

Her father turned back to her. "Gosalyn, you've been going through some changes, growing up."  
>Gosalyn blinked. "Yeah?"<br>"Well? How were you four days ago?"  
>"What?" She scratched her head. "I was ..."<br>"And you're not now." He finished for her.  
>Gosalyn shrugged. "So, dad? I'm seventeen, that's no big deal, it happens to every duckette around my age."<p>

He stared at her. "That was last week, Q. You were like any other ... 'duckette' last week."  
>Gosalyn stared at her father, getting his meaning and felt the soup sitting thick and heavy in her stomach with it. "No way, dad." She whispered. "You can't be saying this. That factory was filled with bad guys ... This is insane!"<br>"I don't know anything, Gosalyn!" He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "When I got there, there was no one left standing. Everyone was passed out on the floor ... including you."  
>"That's just great, dad!" She hissed at him. "You couldn't possibly make the situation I was in sound any more indecent."<br>"But-."  
>"How about you let me decide what the story is that I want to tell people?" She rubbed her face.<p>

"What time interval are we talking between me blacking out and you getting there?"  
>"Between three and nine minutes. Steelbeak wouldn't have set more than ten minutes on the detonator."<br>Gosalyn sank her face into her hands. "Why not twenty minutes later? Why not the next day even? Why did I lay then?"  
>"I would say it was because your muscles went from being extremely tense to completely relaxed."<p>

Gosalyn did not like it when mysteries happened to her. "Is there no evidence at all on what happened?"  
>Her father opened his beak to reply but jumped up to a stand as there was the sound of the front door opening. "That's your mum now." He dashed out of the room.<br>Gosalyn studied the linoleum on the floor where it joined the cupboards. "How is that going to make this all better?" She heard their hushed voices in the lounge room and sighed. "I'm confused. There are too many things in my head." She stood up. "I wish I was a kid again. Back then everything made sense."

She stepped out of the kitchen and approached her parents standing there together in the middle of the lounge room.  
>Morgana turned to her. "Gosalyn, dear? I'm so glad you're feeling better."<br>"I'm not so sure of that one anymore, mum." Gosalyn replied in all honesty.  
>"Surely, sweetheart. Being awake is as good a start as any." Her mother gave her a reassuring smile and pulled her into a gentle hug that meant every bit as much as the ones her father gave her. It made Gosalyn feel much safer, knowing she wasn't alone. She had family and that meant she had back up.<br>"Gosalyn?"  
>She looked down at her father. In his arms he had a bundle of blankets and he was offering it up to her. Morgana squeezed Gosalyn's arm again in reassurance.<p>

Gosalyn lifted the bundle away from her father and into her arms. The reality seemed to hit her right then as she found herself adjusting the blankets to keep the egg warm.

Keep ... her ... egg warm. She gazed down at the bundle and finally rediscovered her voice. "I'm a mother."

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><p><em>AN: If you have read this from beginning to end I congratulate you and sincerely hope you have found this an interesting discussion. If it entices your own imagination to take wing then that is a wonderful compliment to me._


	5. Ch 1 Adjust

_A/N: I guess I should talk about my anthropomorphised birds for a moment. As I write fiction, I pick the bits of science stuff I like and put them together to make 'pseudo sense'. While I enjoy the intellectual buzz of rationalising perfect nonsense, a Deathstar means nothing without the characters to fight over it. A hybrid plant-duck is a mild curiosity but make him lonely and give him self esteem issues and then he's a veritable field of stories waiting to germinate._

_A/N: I scrambled a bunch of wild/domestic bird/human breeding concepts together to make this theory work. I didn't explain it in the text because of course all the characters just know how they go about breeding so I'll explain it now. First off, chickens regularly lay their eggs with or without a rooster to do the job of fertilizing them. As to which rooster it is, it rather depends on the pecking order and you can easily humanize that concept as well. Second off, wild birds choose their mates and then go make a nest to lay their eggs and they repeat it every spring. _

_A/N: The thing in common that I've focus on for my story basis is that, however odd (or in this case anthropomorphised) the bird, if you're going to be the dad, you've got to be the first one on the scene after the egg gets laid and don't you let anyone sneak in while you're away getting a snack or something. _

_A/N: As much as we all would like to be the lovebirds tenderly feathering their nest each spring, chattering away to each other across the endless hours, we cannot all have a story like Drake and Morgana. _

_A/N: Drake's character is perfect Disney fiction, bless him. His protective nature doesn't have an off switch. A real mallard drake goes 'yeah, everything's alright here, so I'll be off and get out of your way'. Not this one. Morgana has to wrestle our Drake out of the way. _"Look, I'm fine." "How about-." "I'm fine, really!" "Okay! But if you need anything just call me, okay?" "Thank you!" "I love you." "... I love you too." "Are you sure I can't-." "Go! They're not going to rescue themselves, you know!"_ If I could ever impress one point clearly enough, it is that the protective nature of Drake is eternal. And I'm sure Morgana would never want to push him too far away._

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><p><strong>Adjust<strong>

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><p>Gosalyn sat on the lounge chair, holding her egg close to her. Two thoughts were spinning around in her head. '... What sort of guy just scrams? ... I'm a mum! Who was he to do this? ... I'm going to have a baby to look after!'<p>

"Q?"

She looked up dazedly as the duckling peered closely at her. "Hiyah, Raya. Long time no see, kiddo. How was school?"  
>"It was much the same as always. Mrs Kingfisher had us paint with straws instead of brushes for art class today. I have no idea what the point of the straws were, but it turned into an interesting experience once Thomas got bored and decided to conduct an experiment. We managed to connect ours and Julie's and Simon's together before Brittany noticed and told on us." The duckling took a breath, "now that you're awake, can you tell me who the daddy is?"<br>Gosalyn jumped in shock. "Raya, you haven't been telling people about this, have you?"  
>"No!" Raya screwed her face up in displeasure. "Absolutely negatively not." She crossed her arms. "I know how to keep secrets; I keep a hundred a day. I am the fountain of secrecy. 'We the People' would hire me at congress because I so solemnly do not cross-tell anything not a word I pledge allegiance to the silent lambs and never."<br>"A hundred a day, huh?" Gosalyn smirked.

"Sit down you little knuckle-head."  
>Raya sat down next to her and hugged her. "I missed you, Q."<br>Gosalyn hooked her arm around Raya and returned the hug. "I love you too, kiddo."  
>Raya snuggled beside her. Gosalyn looked back down at her egg in her lap.<br>"You don't know the daddy, do you?"  
>Gosalyn let out a sigh. "I don't. It doesn't really matter I guess. Since he disappeared so quickly I doubt he'll be pestering me for custody rights ... I hope."<br>"Of course he won't." Raya assured her. "Because when the baby hatches, they'll see you and you'll be its mother. If he's not around, they won't know him." Raya patted her knee.  
>"How would you know that?"<br>"I read it in a baby book when I was little. I think Justin still has it, it's called 'Are you my mother?' And once the baby found its mother they all lived happily ever after."  
>"Sounds intense and a little traumatic." Gosalyn remarked more to herself. 'Mental note: be there when my baby hatches.'<p>

Raya got off the chair.  
>"Where are you off to, kid?"<br>"It's ages till dinnertime. You're not the only one with secrets, Q. I have other people that require my confident skills."  
>Gosalyn giggled. "That's confidant, kiddo. C-o-n-f-i-d-a-n-t."<br>Raya screwed her face up in disagreement. "No, you're wrong, Gos. It's my c-o-n-f-i-d-e-n-c-e they w-a-n-t and after dinner can I borrow your c-o-m-i-c, you know the one that has D-a-r-k-w-i-n-g-D-u-c-k in it?"  
>Gosalyn blinked. "... W-h-y?"<br>"Uh, it's for research." Raya blushed. "Can I, please?"  
>"Research?"<br>"Research." Raya crossed her arms, becoming stubborn.  
>"Why do you need to research that topic?"<br>Raya pursed her beak. "That information is confidential top secret hush hush."  
>Gosalyn suppressed a grin. Sometimes Raya did a very good job at sounding like their father. "So is that topic, I would have thought."<br>"Yeah, that's why I need the comic."  
>"Ah, an interposed medium. Clever."<br>"Inter-posed medium. Yeah." Raya tapped her beak. "I'll be careful with it, I promise."  
>Gosalyn sighed, rubbing her head. "Alright, kid, after dinner, and don't let it anywhere near the tiny terror. I repeat keep it out of sight of J-u-s-t-i-n."<br>Raya came back over and knelt on the chair for another tight hug. "Thanks, sis. I will." She hopped off the chair again. "Yeah, I'm coming!" She sidled a knowing look at Gosalyn. "Try and keep your temper, sis. I know it's hard and I have problems too but you still need to try as hard as you can to be good." The little girl walked up the stairs.  
>"And sometimes she sounds like the caterpillar sitting on the mushroom." Gosalyn shook her head. "Or Launchpad even."<p>

* * *

><p><em>AN: Oh, as for the over-intelligent six year old, you'll get used to it. The teachers do._


	6. Ch 1 Window

**In Through the Window**

* * *

><p>Not long after her sister disappeared Gosalyn felt restless and went upstairs herself. She sat down on top of her bed, trying to think how she would go about solving this mystery. "What do I know?" She rubbed her forehead. "Alright, take it out of context for a moment and look at it on the face value. Who would do something like this?"<p>

There came a tapping on her window, interrupting Gosalyn's search for the answer. She picked up her egg and drew open the curtains. "Honker?" She undid the latch and he climbed in. "What are you doing?"  
>"Oh, Gosalyn." He breathed. "I was so worried. I've come over every afternoon to see if you were awake yet."<br>"That still leaves me wondering why you climbed the tree to see me. It's still daylight. Why didn't you come through the front door?"  
>"Um, the tree is more advantageous." Honker pushed his glasses back up his beak. "When I heard you weren't coming to school again till next term I ... You are coming back now you're awake?" He asked, watching her face.<p>

Gosalyn sat back down on her bed, the bundle in her lap. She took a moment to rationalise this one now she had all the facts of her predicament. "No. I think I'd better go with dad on that one."  
>Honker sat down on the bed as well. "What about your term paper?"<br>"Honk-er." Gosalyn groaned. "I just woke up an hour ago. I'm dazed and confused, my life is now even more complicated than it used to be. I'll deal with the term paper ... later."  
>"Whoa, more complicated?" Honker rubbed his head. "I didn't think that was possible."<p>

Gosalyn took a breath. "For a start; what am I going to do about my job?"  
>"S.H.U.S.H.?"<br>"I've been missing ... tonight's going to make it three nights."  
>"But ... Gosalyn, you called for backup, right?"<br>"Yes, I called everybody as soon as I saw what I was dealing with." Gosalyn crossed her arms with a huff. "Per proper 'S.H.U.S.H. procedure'. This is the first time not even dad turned up to help me in time. I'm lucky this was all that happened to me." She finished severely. "Real lucky."  
>"Then," Honker concluded in a rational tone of voice, "one can reasonably suppose that if S.H.U.S.H. had given you backup the other night you wouldn't have been missing in the first place. Correct?"<br>"What, Honk?" She looked at him in mild annoyance, "I just said that."

"My cursory review of the facts leads me to think that some leniency on their account is in order in lieu of the circumstances."  
>"Hey ... yeah." Gosalyn felt the weight lifting from her at his reassuring logic. "Thanks, Honker."<p>

"The party's on Saturday night. Will you still be up for it?"  
>Gosalyn eyed her bundle of blankets scrunched up in her lap, thinking about what would be the story once it hatched. "Better now than later. I hope it's alright with dad."<br>"Maybe you can ask Grizlykoff not to give you so many hours after the party. It'd be nice to have a chance to ... uh, hang out more with you."  
>Gosalyn felt her muscles tensing up at the notion of such a confrontation with her boss in front of her. "Well, I'm certainly open to suggestions on how to go about it, Honker."<br>In response he went red under his plumage and looked away from her. "I didn't think of that."

"And now to top it off, I've got to track this guy down somehow as well."  
>"What guy?"<br>Gosalyn opened her beak but nothing came out. She swallowed and held her bundle closer to her. "I don't know. He's some guy. I-I don't even know what to think of him. What was he thinking?"

"Oh my gosh, Gosalyn ..." Honker said in a sensitive voice, considering the blankets in her arms properly now. "You're going to be a mum?"  
>"I didn't ask for it Honker."<br>"I never would think you did. Not with how busy you are in your life right now."  
>"What was he thinking, anyway?" She shook her head. "He must be a crazy lunatic or something."<br>"Not necessarily." Honker responded. He took a long breath and set about, cleaning his glasses in a moment of contemplation. "Um, not necessarily at all, Gosalyn." He stated soberly. "I would need more facts before I could come anywhere close to what this particular person was thinking."

Gosalyn looked at Honker. "I'm seventeen. I've got to go to school. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go to university but that doesn't seem likely anymore, does it?" She ended in a sob.  
>"Take a step back, Gosalyn." Honker edged closer to her side and put his hand on her shoulder. "Deep down you know that you can handle it. I know you know you can handle it because you're bigger than this."<br>"What do you mean, 'bigger'?" She sniffed.  
>"You're larger than life, Gos. You're The Quiverwing Quack."<br>"Thanks, Honk." She sighed. "You're the best."

"... I haven't actually said anything practical as yet. What we'll need is DNA samples to compare-."  
>"It's not hatched, Honk!" Gosalyn shied away from him in horror.<br>"To the egg shell once it has hatched! Gosalyn, of course I meant after it's hatched."  
>"Oh." Gosalyn adjusted the blankets. "That'll be ages."<br>"To you it's ages. Oh, Gosalyn, Gosalyn, how could you think I'd do something like that?" Honker pleaded.  
>"I ... I've been surveying F.O.W.L. intelligence and reporting to S.H.U.S.H. intelligence. None of those guys would stop and think for one moment before doing something like that."<br>Honker sighed. "You're home now and we all care about you and your baby. No one's going to try anything bad, not with you, your dad, me, and your mum around to get past."  
>"Thanks, Honker." She croaked.<p>

Honker took another long breath. "What we can do before it hatches is form a list of possible suspects." Honker paused. "I don't think you're going anywhere at the moment, so we'll start collecting feathers later. We don't have to do it in a hurry, Gos. It's the one thing that can wait the longest."  
>"I want to know, Honk!" Gosalyn hissed. "What if it's Steelbeak and it's all part of some creeped out plan to get me off his back? And ... what am I gonna tell my kid, Honk, every time they bring a new date home it's 'oh, can my mum borrow one of your feathers just to check we're not related'?"<br>"Time out, Gosalyn!" Honker objected, suddenly talking very fast. "He's-not-even-hatched-yet; he-certainly-won't-be-dating-in-five-years-not-even-ten-years-realistically-speaking!" He sat back from her. "Whoa, you've turned into my mum already."  
>"I'm not going to start baking cinnamon buns."<br>"I'm sure not going to put it past you, Gosalyn."  
>She smiled. "Hey, she makes a great mum though, right?"<br>"Yeah, apart from the fact that she doesn't understand me anymore than dad does." Honker countered sarcastically.

"I've just realised!" Gosalyn groaned. "The guy could've hopped a plane yesterday while I was out of it."  
>"Gosalyn, what'll it prove? Other than manage the dating prospects fifteen years from now?"<br>"I'd feel better knowing the reason why."  
>"Maybe he liked you." He frowned.<br>"I was in a factory of criminals who I was taking down."  
>"Maybe he didn't like you then." Honker shrugged.<br>"I was unconscious; he could easily have just killed me instead."

Honker sighed, giving Gosalyn the impression she was being difficult again. "What's left then, Gos? No, don't answer that. Where were you?"  
>"It was the Crackle and Jones factory. It was Tuesday night around ten o'clock." Honker nodded seriously. "I'll get on your dad's computer and try and pull the security tapes this weekend. That should provide some evidence of what happened."<br>"Thanks, Honk." Gosalyn sighed, watching Honker get up and step towards the window. "What would I do without you?"  
>"I shudder to think." Gosalyn heard Honker remark quietly to himself as he opened up the window again. "I'll have the tapes this weekend, Gos. We'll go through it the next time you have a chance."<br>"Sure. Goodnight, Honker. Thanks."  
>"Make sure you close the window up after me to keep the egg warm." He reminded her quietly as he climbed out on to the tree branch.<p> 


	7. Ch 1 Dinner

**_Menu_**

_'Mafivanian Dipping Sauce'  
><em>_Imagine your favourite condi__ment. It's the one you reach for before you rationalise what you're eating and/or it's the one that you put on your shopping list the most often. Now imagine it went with _everything_._

_Mafivanian - it makes any food interesting._

* * *

><p><em>AN: I, in an extreme mental surge of creative inspiration have decided to name this chapter:_

* * *

><p><strong>Dinner<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Thursday Evening Dinnertime)<em>

Gosalyn sat on her bed, thinking on those last few minutes at the Crackle and Jones' fireworks factory.

_There was a flurry of nameless eggmen. Firecrackers were going off left, right and centre. Steelbeak was standing on the tier above, lighting the central fuse that would set off two thousand F.O.W.L. crackers that would __simultaneously __blow half the city block apart and bring New Years Eve to St. Canard a few months ahead of schedule._

Gosalyn sighed. "I feel like he's just messing around with me."

Eventually acknowledging the dimming rays of light, Gosalyn got up, locked the window and drew the blinds. Then she headed downstairs, somehow unable to let go of her egg.

* * *

><p>Her father was at the sink pouring the water out of the bottom of the vegetable steamer. Gosalyn moved to the crockery cupboard and started pulling plates out with her spare hand in a bid to help her father get dinner organized.<br>"Sit down, Gosalyn." Her dad ordered.  
>Gosalyn sat down at the kitchen table on the first chair that faced the room and tucked the egg carefully in her lap.<p>

Drake put the saucepan down on the sink and took the seat opposite her at the kitchen table. "I want to let you in on something, kiddo. When your mum and I had Raya, there were two of us. Coincidentally there were two of us for Justin as well. One of us could always sit there with them." He motioned to the egg in Gosalyn's arms. "The other one could go on and do something like fix dinner, or work." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I know how you feel, hon; you have to do things, you have to keep moving, you have to get things done."

"I can't just sit quietly, dad! Raya can, but I can't."  
>"Raya ..." Drake sighed and shut his beak with a grimace.<p>

"You want to go out, don't you, Gosalyn?"  
>"S.H.U.S.H. don't really need me tonight." She decided, "Steelbeak stays in his apartment on Thursday evenings."<br>"I suppose your Steelbeak doesn't care for all the happy midnight shoppers." Her father snorted. "So then you want to go out tomorrow night."  
>"Am I pushing it to ask you to egg sit, dad? Because I need to be at the party on Saturday night as well."<p>

Her father straightened in his chair. The expression on his face turned severe. "That means you'll need to be at S.H.U.S.H. for the mission pre-briefing on Saturday morning-which basically assures me you'll be there all day after that!"  
>"Just Friday and Saturday, dad, please. It's Director J Gander Hooter's party. I don't want anything to happen to him."<br>"I think it's a bit late for that." Her father growled. "Five months too late."

"Dad? Can I go?"  
>"You have a job to do, sweetheart, so you'd better get it done." He sighed. "But I want you to understand that caring for a baby takes two very important things out of you. In no particular order, one is energy and the other one is time."<br>"Kinda like my job." Gosalyn commented under her breath. Of course her dad's hearing was very good and he heard her say it.

"The only difference, hon, is that ... this ... particular job," he motioned to the egg in her arms, "needs you to be home in order for you to do it properly. Now I am aware that there is a bit of 'Drake Mallard: The Neglected Parent' in this speech of mine, but really? You can't study full time and work full time ... and ... do your new full time job." He stood up, finishing getting dinner organised, dividing up the vegetables between the four plates.

Gosalyn looked down at the table, feeling the conflict of responsibility prickling anxiously in her mind. If only it were as simple as how he said it was. If only her life were as straight forward as how her father saw life. If only it just came down to what she could and couldn't do just in the way Darkwing Duck acted.

But it wasn't. "I get you, dad, it's just-."  
>"Indeed." He cut across her as he added a small amount of Morgana's Mafivanian dipping sauce to each of the plates. "I've been thinking about this one. It seems Grizlykoff likes having you there during the day, so how about working just Saturdays?" He turned back to face her. "That's still ten hours or so of work without being too unreasonable. Add school and you're only out for six days and one evening and that leaves the rest of your time for being a mum. Part time is a much better arrangement than full time under these circumstances."<p>

Gosalyn looked away from him as hot tears sprang into her eyes. "You make it sound so reasonable, dad. But when you're standing in that office it's ..."  
>"Do you want me to talk to Grizlykoff for you?"<br>"Talk?" Gosalyn didn't feel very positive about that prospect. "Don't you usually just growl at each other, dad, and then ... you know ... slink off?"  
>"I object to that!" He narrowed his eyes and put his hands on the table, leaning forwards to her. "Since when ... have you ever seen ... Grizlykoff ... 'slink'?" He straightened, letting a smile through. "I can't even imagine it. I'm picturing him in a tutu but Grizlykoff just doesn't fit in the same sentence as grace."<br>Gosalyn smiled weakly at his humour.

"Cheer up, Gos." Her father fetched the cutlery from out of the drawer. "We'll get this sorted out, you'll see." He turned to face the internal doorway and called for the others. "Raya, Justin, dinnertime."

* * *

><p>Justin zipped into view in the doorway a few moments later. "Yay, dinner!"<br>"How about a 'thank you, daddy'?" Drake reminded him of his manners.  
>Justin nodded to him, "thank you, daddy."<br>"Where is that sister of yours?" Their father asked.  
>"Oh, she's still talking to her friends." Justin answered.<br>"You'd almost think she wasn't hungry. Ray-."  
>Raya appeared in the doorway. "I'm here! I'm hungry! Thank you, daddy!"<br>"And what were you doing that was so important, young lady?"  
>"Daddy, I was saying 'I have to go now, by-e'."<p>

Gosalyn watched her little sister get up on the chair next to Justin's, mildly curious about Raya's conversations. "And you're going to be talking to these people after dinner?"  
>"Oh, no, that's someone else, Gosalyn."<br>"Raya," their father said as he put the plates on the table in front of them, "aren't there enough hours at school to talk to these friends of yours?"  
>"Thanks, dad." Gosalyn picked up her fork and speared a piece of steamed carrot.<p>

"Not really, daddy." Raya answered.  
>"But isn't there always a tomorrow?"<br>"Oh! Tomorrow! That reminds me. Daddy, can I be late home tomorrow?"  
>Justin turned his head to Raya with a frown and asked in a tiny voice of disapproval: "is it that boy again?"<p>

"He's my boy." Raya corrected her little brother. "And can I? Daddy?"

Gosalyn chewed on a mouthful of potato and peas as she glanced over and caught their father's gaze. The expression on his face told her he felt a little trapped. "Sure, honey ... but I need you to get yourself home before dark and I want him home before dark, too."  
>"But, dad, he's-."<br>"I don't care how 'big-and-strong-and-mean-and-tough' he is, Raya, and neither does his parents. They want him home before dark and I agree with them."

"Okay. Thank you, daddy." Raya said quietly, acknowledging the allowance and the limit he'd placed on it. "I'll make sure he goes home before dark."  
>"Good." Drake ended the subject in a firm tone.<p>

There was a quiet moment at the table as they ate their meals. Drake looked over at Justin and after a minute he spoke again in a careful voice. "So what do you want to be doing tomorrow afternoon, Justin?"  
>Justin, sitting up on his cushion, munching quietly on his broccoli shrugged and swallowed his mouthful. "I've been thinking. Could you teach me how to play scrabble, dad?"<br>"Oh, thank goodness." Their father sighed in relief. "No problems, Justin. I'll give you a whole afternoon of scrabbling fun."

Gosalyn looked down at her half finished plate in dismay. "I didn't know you've learnt how to read, Justin!"  
>"Yeah, mummy and daddy taught me."<br>Gosalyn gulped at the sheer terror of the idea that she'd missed something so important in Justin's life and worse; it could keep happening if she didn't do something about her life and quick. "Dad, I'll try on Saturday to talk to Grizlykoff about my ludicrous hours, but ..." She felt her nerves tense and her stomach felt tight with unease with the idea yet again. "If I can't, can you? Please?"  
>Drake swallowed his mouthful. "I'll even throw in a piece of my mind if you like." He offered darkly.<br>"No, dad! He'd just go ballistic even more."  
>"So what if he does? Do I let it get to me? No. If it comes down to a fight I'll have at it. And remember the reason for why we fight, kids?" He nodded to Raya and Justin for an answer.<br>"Because it's important." Raya answered in a severe tone.  
>"Precisely." Their father said triumphantly. "And kids, is your sister Gosalyn important?"<br>"Yes!" They answered in chorus.

She didn't know why, but once again tears sprang into Gosalyn's eyes. "Thanks, you guys." She croaked. "I love you too."


	8. Ch 1 Accessory

**Accessory**

* * *

><p>After dinner and a shower, Gosalyn went straight to bed. She didn't quite understand why, but she felt exhausted despite having slept half her week away.<p>

It took her a few careful experiments to figure out how to arrange herself and keep the egg safe and warm under the blankets with her. Then she turned out the table lamp and put her head down on the pillow.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn stirred awake and looked up at her clock radio. Much to her shock, she realised her father had switched her alarm off and it was now twenty past ten on Friday morning. "No school today," she relaxed, pulling up the blankets. Her egg sat, a light blue speckled green, tucked securely in the mass of green and pink floral blankets by her side. "I think I've become quite attached to you," she remarked, "I'm not too keen on going out tonight anymore. I'd rather stay here with you."<p>

Gosalyn got out of bed, dropping the blankets back down over the egg for the moment, "but I still need to do stuff." She got dressed and grabbed her brush, staring into her mirror as she pulled it through her hair. "I am Gosalyn Mallard," she told herself, "and today is a good day to get my term paper done." She glanced back at her nestling. "Before the inevitable happens. Come on." She picked up the bundle. "Now is a good time for breakfast given that now is the time that I've woken up."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn went down the stairs and found the TV switched on. On a cushion on the floor sat Justin.<br>"What're you doing up, cutie? Are mum and dad still asleep?"  
>"Yes."<br>"Mongo Meets Arachno-Woman." She stated, having watched the show a hundred times for herself. "Who put this one on, Justin?"  
>"I put it in the machine."<br>"You're too young, kiddo; you should get someone bigger to do it."  
>"I am bigger" said the duckling who was the same size as the throw pillow he was sitting on.<br>"Than who? The people on the screen?"  
>"No." Justin snorted. "I'm bigger than I was yesterday, so I can too put the movie on myself."<p>

"Who said you could watch this movie?" Gosalyn frowned.  
>"They're just spiders like Archie, Q." Justin told her.<br>"Only they're a lot bigger than Archie and they eat people."  
>Justin shrugged complacently. "It's just a movie."<br>"Why this movie, Justin?"  
>"Because the arachnoid princess is cool."<br>"Suggesting to me you've already watched it." Gosalyn harrumphed.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"  
>Justin snorted, turning back to the TV. "Too many naps."<br>"Okay." Gosalyn resigned. "Maybe after this we can watch 'Colours and Shapes', huh?"  
>Justin peered up at her hopefully. "Could we play colours and shapes, Q? That'd be better."<br>Gosalyn shook her head. "Sorry, I've got to study. Another day?"  
>"Okay, Q."<br>She reached down and ruffled the feathers on his head before heading into the kitchen for cereal.

Justin seemed quite content when she checked in on him next, so she let him be and went upstairs to study.

* * *

><p>When she came back down again for a glass of milk and lunch a couple hours later her toddler brother was still not watching 'Colours and Shapes'.<p>

"Justin, what is this?" Gosalyn demanded tensely.  
>" 'The Day of the Triffids'." He answered.<br>"I can see that! You are not to be watching this movie." She advanced to the wall behind the TV and flicked off the entertainment unit at the power point.  
>"But, Gosalyn!" Justin objected unhappily.<br>"No, and that's flat. I want you to get dressed and get your shoes on. It's a nice day outside. I'm getting my books and we're going to the park."  
>"Outside? Okay." Justin started smiling again.<p>

Gosalyn crossed over to the hall stand where the telephone sat and wrote a note to their parents. "Justin," She spoke back to him in the lounge, "would you like to pack us some lunch? We can eat in the park."  
>"That's super!" Justin answered enthusiastically as she started up the stairs. "I'm on it!"<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn put the egg carefully down on her bed and went down to the end of the corridor. She pulled down the stairs and climbed up into the attic. The stroller was right there in front of her. She stepped next to it, looking at the suitcase propping it up. These two items stood stark and alone in the centre of the room.<br>"Let me guess, dad ... thinking ahead?" Gosalyn smiled thankfully as she knelt down on the dusty floorboards and opened the case. "Yep, baby clothes."

Gosalyn dug around the case, looking for an egg carrier. "Hang on." She rifled through the contents even more desperately. "Oh, you have got-to-be-kidding-me!" There was no other suitcase set out for her. She sat back and took a breath, calming down. "Come to think of it, I never saw you two use a carrier." She sighed, rubbing her head. "We don't have one." She concluded. "There isn't one. I'm going to have to make do with the stroller until I can buy one." Gosalyn took the handle on the collapsed stroller and got down out of the attic.

"Take one stroller and add plenty of blankets." From out of the linen cupboard Gosalyn took a towel and rolled it up, jamming it into the stroller's seat. "That'll work." She took the towel and folded down the stroller again.

"Now I've got too many blankets." She grumbled as she carefully picked up her bundled egg and balanced the towel on top. She stared at the stroller. "I have to do this in two trips." Then she remembered her school books had to come down the stairs as well and she didn't feel so ridiculous making two trips.

"You're so small and light and yet so much trouble, baby." She remarked to her egg in a conversational tone, carrying the towel and blanket stack downstairs. "And you're not even hatched yet." She eyed the lounge chair nervously thinking her egg could get sat on. "It's not worth the risk," she decided and put the bundle on the coffee table instead. I'll be just two minutes," she told her egg, and dashed up the stairs.

Gosalyn shoved her textbooks into her backpack along with her exercise book and pencil case. Then she shrugged it onto her shoulders and picked up the stroller.

As she headed down the stairs, she heard Justin singing quietly down below.

_"There's always one more thing to learn_  
><em>There's always one more thing to learn<em>  
><em>Just when you thought<em>  
><em>All your questions were answered<em>  
><em>There's always one more thing to learn."<em>

Justin was sitting on the chair, singing to her egg before him.  
>Gosalyn opened up the stroller and stood it on the carpet next to the table. "Keep going, cutie. I'm listening." She collected the towel and pushed it into the seat as Justin continued to sing.<p>

_"There's always one more thing to learn_  
><em>There's always one more thing to learn<em>  
><em>Who knows just what<em>  
><em>Tomorrow will bring<em>  
><em>That's why it's such fun to learn."<em>

"That's nice, Justin." Gosalyn commented encouragingly.  
>"I was keeping your egg company while you were gone." Justin explained as Gosalyn picked up the bundle again.<br>"Thank you, Justin. I'm sure baby appreciates it." Gosalyn carefully sat the blanket bundle into the folds of the towel and did up the little belt on the stroller.

"You've got a nice singing voice, Justin. It's just like daddy's."  
>"No it isn't." He denied. "Daddy's voice is really dark."<br>Gosalyn smiled at him. "That happens as you get older. Your voice goes darker."  
>"Is dad really old then? Because he's got a really dark voice?"<br>Gosalyn blinked. "I'm sorry, Justin; I didn't explain that one very well. It's because he's all grown up, cutie. Once you grow up, you'll probably have a dark voice too, but it doesn't keep getting darker. It'll stop there."  
>"Oh, phew." Justin sighed in relief and Gosalyn giggled at his seriousness.<br>"Knucklehead." She grabbed him into a quick hug.

"Come on," she stood up and grabbed the house keys from the phone table. "I can't wait another minute to get into that sunshine."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Lost in the annals of time there was an actual video called _Colours and Shapes_ for preschoolers. I apologise for not crediting it properly because I can't find it in Google. __Thank you, whoever you are out there for _'There's Always One More Thing to Learn'_._

_A/N: And thank you, John Wyndham for _The Day of the Triffids_ and the image of giant daffodils that it conjures in my mind._


	9. Ch 1 Park

**The Evils of Society**

* * *

><p><em>(Mid Friday Morning)<em>

The suburban park near their house on Avian Way was a plain, open and peaceful one. It was no more than two house blocks in size so there was no hiding places for bad guys to lurk unless they were squatting behind the witch hazel bushes or lurking behind the old oak tree.

It was a nice warm, bright afternoon and Gosalyn was glad to be outside. She parked the stroller beside the bench and put her bag down behind it, then sat down with her legs folded up under her. She collected her egg and tucked it securely into her lap. Justin had chosen apples for their lunch and they shared a canteen of water from his miniature quackpack.

Apple consumed, core binned and Justin promptly ran off to play on the monkey bars, leaving Gosalyn to do up the lid on the drink bottle and put it back in his bag.  
>"Wish I could be you again, kiddo." Gosalyn watched him wistfully for a moment before she pushed the empty stroller aside and dragged her backpack closer. She yanked out her English book, consigning herself to the fate of her term paper. If she had to sit with her egg, she might as well get some work done.<p>

* * *

><p>"Oh, hello, young Gosalyn."<p>

'Honker's mum.' Gosalyn felt a twinge of electric tension run through her middle as she looked up from her textbook to her familiarly blue and white garbed visitor. Here now was to be the single one conversation she dreaded to have as Gosalyn Mallard, effervescent teenager.

"Hello, Mrs. Muddlefoot, how are you?"  
>"I'm doing well. I just thought I'd pop out for a nice walk; it is such a lovely day and I saw you go past and I thought to myself that I haven't heard from you very much lately."<br>"Yes," Gosalyn agreed the moment Binkie stopped for a breath. "I've been very busy. I've been working."

"So your father tells me." Mrs. Muddlefoot remarked, sitting down on the space in front of Gosalyn. Gosalyn didn't have a moment to think before Binkie continued on. "It is good that you've managed to get away from it; you know it's not very good to be working so hard all the time, everyone needs some time for themselves, my goodness you could get quite sick if you work too much."  
>"Boy, did I found that out the hard way." Gosalyn snorted.<br>"Oh, I'm not so sure, dear." The suburban woman disagreed in her pleasant voice. "You seem alright now so I fancy you are one of the lucky ones to realise it before you got too sick. Now you can do something about it."  
>"But I ... can't ... do anything about it!" Gosalyn exclaimed, feeling as helpless as a third class passenger on a forty six thousand ton steamship. "My new boss is an ogre. My feathers curl just thinking about talking to him about getting some time off."<br>"Oh, that is a shame the two of you don't get along, isn't it? Anyone could see you love that job of yours to bits."

Tears sprang up into Gosalyn's eyes and she blinked furiously. "It really sucks, Mrs. Muddlefoot! I didn't have any problems with my old boss; he treated me like a real person. Why'd they have to make him retire for? It isn't fair. I wish I could have done something, and now I'm stuck at home by some cruel and twisted joke of fate. And someone's out there laughing at me just around the corner. He's lucky I haven't found him yet so I can beat the snot out of him. I'll turn him into a slug. He won't know what hit him. By the time I'm finished with him -."

"Oh, heavens be." Mrs. Muddlefoot tsked. "You do get a bit carried away, dear, don't you? Try to calm down; it'll do you a world of good. Goodness, you're just like my Honker; whenever he gets worked up his asthma starts playing up again."  
>Gosalyn took a long breath and let it out slowly.<br>"That's better, dear. Now try again; what is the matter?"

Gosalyn took another moment to consider what Honker's mother could actually help her with. The woman sat there, in her blue and white dress with her hands in her lap, looking at Gosalyn from her secure world of matter-of-fact normality. The weird thing was, there wasn't a trace of suspicion or disapproval lurking in her aura. She saw Gosalyn with the stroller and the bundle in her lap and yet ... nothing ... was out of place in her mind. Gosalyn finally decided that Binkie just didn't see anything the matter with this picture.

"Mrs. Muddlefoot, you've been a mum for a while. Do you think you could have managed without your husband?"  
>"One finds a way to deal with the circumstances they find themselves." Binkie looked over at the stroller, then back at the egg in Gosalyn's lap. "That's a good idea, dear." She calmly approved of the location change. "The stroller could get quite cold after a while. It's better for the baby to keep it warm. And we're at that time of year when the weather is only getting cooler."<br>"I know." Gosalyn insisted before the floodgates on Binkie's over-nurturing nature had a chance to open. "But I needed to get some fresh air. I was going nuts being inside all day. I wish I had an egg carrier. Do you have one I could borrow?"  
>"I'm afraid I had a spring clean a couple years ago when Herb went away to a conference and I got rid of all our baby things. But surely your parents still have theirs after Justin?"<br>"There's two of ... them." Gosalyn grumbled, paraphrasing her father's lecture last night. "The egg stayed put and one of them sat there with it while the other one went away and did stuff. You'd think a carrier was such a simple thing to get your hands on, but not for me. I'm going to go buy one when I get a chance. I'll have gotten paid this week."

"Perhaps you should rethink buying a carrier, Gosalyn. I don't think it's such a good idea as all that."  
>"You don't agree with me having two hands?" Gosalyn gaped at her.<br>"I know for a fact that it is quite a difficult task, literally juggling all the time-."  
>"Oh, boy is it ever." Gosalyn agreed, glad to find some sympathy at least. "Up till now my record for juggling has been twenty eight minutes. Fsst, this blows that clear out of the water."<br>"... But at least juggling keeps your attention on where it should be. If you had a carrier, the job would become easy and you might be inclined to be more active than you really ought to be. I remember how difficult it was not to vacuum with it on. Eggs are meant to be sat with, like your parents did with Justin and Raya. They don't do well to be shaken around."  
>"I'm not going to go play tennis or anything!" Gosalyn objected.<p>

"I just want to be able to make myself breakfast without stressing."  
>"Of course you still need to move around. I needed a carrier because I simply couldn't sit still for as long as you, Gosalyn."<br>"No!" Gosalyn blinked at her. "No, way. Nobody moves around more than me. I'm the queen of 'where did she go'. No way. You've got the wrong teenager, Mrs. Muddlefoot."  
>Binkie laughed in her gentle lilting voice. "How can I sit down, with so many things to be done about the house? I sit down only to jump straight back up again."<br>Gosalyn grinned at the image in her mind of Honker's mum springing out of a chair. "Wow, I never knew that about you before, Mrs. Muddlefoot. That's kinda cool."

"But even with the carrier, vacuuming just isn't one of the things you can do and my goodness, how many times did I have to stop myself? That's what the carrier does; it tricks you, because now you have two hands you think you can do more and really you can't. If I had my time back, I'd choose not to have a carrier and pay more attention to what I was doing. Safety should always be first. It's rather difficult to forget when you're putting so much effort into holding it."  
>"You've got a good point." Gosalyn mused. "I've been moving a whole lot slower and I'm always thinking on what I'm doing. A carrier could make it too easy."<br>"And I must say you are doing quite well as far as I can see, dear."  
>"Thanks." Gosalyn smiled at her, feeling reassured.<br>"Oh, you're welcome, dear." Binkie paused, watching her.

"Hasn't your father told you you're doing a good job yet?"  
>Gosalyn frowned. "There hasn't been time to do a good or a bad job of this yet." She paused. "Our talk last night wasn't exactly in the same time zone as some of dad's other advice. Actually, I'm not convinced it could be called advice. It was more like a reality check."<br>Binkie nodded matter-of-factly. "That's because your father doesn't think you need any advice, dear."  
>Gosalyn raised an eyebrow. "How can you know what dad's thinking, Mrs. Muddlefoot?"<br>"He told me so in his ever adamant way. You and your baby is all he's talked about for the last few days and I do declare that I have never heard him talk so much."

'Aha, so that's it! You already knew!' The idea that Drake Mallard of all people was unable to keep quiet on something was extraordinary. Added to that Gosalyn must have still been unconscious when he talked to Binkie about it; so how could he be so certain she'd do a good job?

"I'm sure you can talk to your mother about things; Morgana is such a dear. But if you do need someone else's advice, I'm always available for a chat and I do know one or two things of my own."  
>"Thanks, Mrs. Muddlefoot." Gosalyn beamed gratefully at her. "That's really nice of you."<br>Binkie stood up. "I really must be off now. I've left a cake in the oven and it's just about ready. I'm glad we've had this talk. You take care, dear."  
>"You too, Mrs. Muddlefoot." Gosalyn watched her hurry back up the road with her mission completed. "So that wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be." She reached for her books, thinking over her father's reactions. "I think granddad might be going to spoil you, baby."<p>

* * *

><p>After a while more Gosalyn looked down at her watch and called out. "Justin, we'd better be getting back."<br>"Okay, Q!" Justin got off the play set and came over. With his young helpful nature he added to the problem and together they rather clumsily got her books back into her backpack.  
>"Thank you, Justin." Gosalyn ruffled his head feathers and then shrugged the bag onto her back. She groaned, recognising the weight and the fact that her body was missing half a week's worth of meals to cope with it properly. "It must be heavier than my uniform!" She complained, "I'm starting to feel like a saddle horse."<br>Justin giggled, his little quackpack on his back as well. "Only prettier."  
>"Watch it, kid; saddle horses can still kick." Gosalyn smirked at him and then looked over at the stroller. "No, it's too cold now." She said bitterly to herself. "After that conversation with Binkie I've gotten nervous, darn it."<br>"Q?"  
>"Yeah?"<br>"Is your bag too heavy for the stroller?" He asked, a thoughtful note in his tiny voice. "Coz, you know if you put it in, I could push it and you can hold the egg and keep it warm."

Gosalyn considered this. "You think you can push a loaded stroller? I can carry the bag, I got it here after all. It's my problem and I can deal with it."  
>Justin shrugged. "It's not a problem to me. Can we try?"<br>"Hmm, so long as I keep you in a straight line. Sure, let's try." She took the straps off her shoulders and one handedly lowered the bag onto the stroller.  
>Justin had a go at pushing. "No problems, Q." He reported cheerily.<br>Gosalyn raised an eyebrow as she stood up and followed him, matching his slow pace. "You know, it wasn't long ago that you were in that stroller, kid."  
>"I'm bigger now."<br>"Yeah. You sure are. Thanks, Justin."  
>"That's okay, Q. This is fun. Everyone wins."<br>"You're cool, little brother." She smiled and they slowly headed back home.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I was down at Fur, Feathers and All with Drake, looking at the entire range of preschooler backpacks and the 'quackpack' was the one he ultimately decided on._


	10. Ch 1 Mallard

_A/N: Another creatively awesome chapter title. The nature of the 'chapter' titles is due to the topical scene blocks that I'm posting. It's easier to read, _easier to _edit, easier to post._

* * *

><p><strong>Mallard<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Mid Friday Afternoon)<em>

One handed Gosalyn hoisted her bag across the doorway while Justin struggled to get the stroller's wheels up over the steps.  
>"Gosh, that was tricky." The pint sized duckling remarked as he pushed the stroller into the coat stand. "I'm thirsty now."<br>"That was a bit of work for you." Gosalyn commented as she followed him into the kitchen. "You did a good job, cutie. Thanks."  
>He turned and looked up at her with a grin. "You're welcome, sis."<p>

Gosalyn pulled a glass out of the cupboard and handed it down to Justin who put it on the table. He went to the fridge and pulled out the filtered water jug and brought it back to the table. In a clever compensation for his miniature height he got up to kneel on the chair. From that position he tipped the water from the heavy jug precariously into the glass. Gosalyn got the washer from the sink and wiped up the slick after he'd picked up his glass. "Y'know," she winked at him, "we make a good team, little brother."  
>He grinned happily up at her through his gulps of water.<p>

* * *

><p>Out of the corner of her eye, Gosalyn saw her mother come down the stairs and into the kitchen, dressed in a red and black dress.<br>"Good afternoon you two."  
>"Mummy!" Justin went over to her and she scooped him. "I had a nice day today. Gosalyn took me to the park and then she let me drive her homework home. It was lots of fun, and we only dropped it once."<br>Gosalyn took a breath. "Good choice of words, Justin, and I'm the first one greatly relieved to know that my egg was not involved in the crash with the letterbox."

"Mummy?"  
>"Yes, sweetie?"<br>"What's our letterbox post made of?"  
>"Steel, honey, why?"<br>"Because I thought it was only made of wood and I was afraid I'd broken it when I ran into it, but then it didn't budge. Why's it made of steel? Aren't they usually made of wood? Honker's mailbox is made of wood, isn't it?"  
>"Oh, you'll have to ask your father about all that."<br>"Mummy, why's the letterbox and the fence all painted white? Why not red or purple or grey or blue like we have inside?"  
>"Your father likes it white. It gives the impression of normality and allows us to blend in with all the other houses on the block."<br>"Okay, but mummy ..."  
>"Oh, dear, I'm sorry ..." Morgana put her finger to Justin's beak to hush him as she yawned. "Mummy just woke up, honey, and these are questions your daddy can better answer for you."<p>

When she looked back up at Gosalyn there was a distinct glint of amusement brightening Morgana's tired eyes. "You've got a bit to look forward to, Gosalyn."  
>Gosalyn stared at Justin. "Yeah ... I'm just getting the 'overwhelmed' feeling right about now."<p>

"What's the matter?"

Gosalyn watched her father come in to the doorway and step up shortly beside her mother. "Good afternoon, Justin."  
>"G'afternoon, daddy."<br>"Did you get some study done, Gosalyn?"  
>"Yes, dad ... uh, can I have a word with you?"<br>"Uh, sure."  
>"Okay, Justin!" Morgana worked some energy into her words, "how about helping mummy make afternoon tea?"<br>"Yay! I love to help!" Justin exclaimed positively and Gosalyn stepped out after her dad.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn moved to the lounge chair and relieved her aching arms by sitting the egg in her lap. "That's better."<br>"Okay, what's the matter, Gosalyn?"  
>Gosalyn looked up at him. "Why does Binkie Muddlefoot know what's going on?"<br>Her father looked down on her. "Gosalyn, we can't keep it a secret. This is one area Binkie's definitely going to notice. That's what your mother said and I agree. You know that we can't have secrets that people notice because that's when people start to pry and there's no way we can get this one under the neighbourhood radar. Gosalyn Mallard is going to have to deal with the lifestyle and the consequences, not The Quiverwing Quack."

Gosalyn frowned. "I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed right now."  
>"Yeah." He said sympathetically. "That's probably why they're eggs first. So you can sit there and figure your way through what's coming up next. That's actually why I wanted you to take next week off school."<br>"So I can think?" She narrowed an eye at him, thinking about what Binkie had said. "So that's your advice; 'think about it'?"  
>"Oh, that woman." He gritted. "Gos, you can clear a room full of zombies, you can deal with a crying baby. You can trek through the sewers searching for criminal rats so you can easily change a nappy. You can juggle your work and study, so you can juggle a baby and study. You can formulate nutty putty on your own, you can formulate baby food. You can stop a dangerous situation in the works and you can stop one from getting anywhere near your baby."<p>

Her father leaned forwards and kissed her forehead. "I have absolute faith in your ability to do it. There're just two things you need to find and they're confidence and application. That's where the thinking part comes in because ..." He shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know ... what's come over you lately, Gos. You've ..." He closed his beak and swallowed, trying again. "I know there's a confident person buried somewhere in you because that's who you used to be. And I know when you apply your indefatigable nature you succeed ..."

He took a breath. "This isn't the time to start doubting yourself, Gosalyn!" He suddenly shouted in desperation. "I can't say it's ever a good time to doubt yourself! I don't know where or how you've picked up this attitude problem of yours, young lady, but it's serious and it's impacting your judgement so you'd better drop it fast before you get yourself or somebody else killed!" He scolded her. "If you want my advice it's this: dig yourself back up, brush yourself off and do what you've got to do to get the job done and right!" He took a breath and let it out, calming himself.  
>"That's some advice, dad." Gosalyn smiled up at him through her watering eyes.<br>"You did ask for it, Gosalyn." He sighed. "I didn't mean to shout like that. I only tend to shout when I feel like nobody's listening. It's a habit of mine."  
>"No; I mean I know it's a habit but 'thanks'. I got the message. It was good."<p>

"I love you, Gosalyn, and I don't want this attitude problem around anymore. It's not good for the baby and it's definitely not good for you." He straightened, a look of pride and determination filled his face. "Furthermore it's not true. You're a Mallard, Gosalyn, and it's time you started acting like one again. Now, how about we join the others for afternoon tea?"  
>"Yeah, dad. That'd be nice." Soberly, Gosalyn picked up her egg and followed him into the formal dining room.<p> 


	11. Ch 1 Squirzzle

**Squirzzle**

* * *

><p>Gosalyn followed her father into the formal dining room located behind the stairs. For a moment she watched him as he paused and leaned over, kissing Morgana on the beak as she sat there on the end of the narrow rectangular table. Ultimately Gosalyn decided not to go around them. She sat down next to Justin and tucked her egg back in her lap.<p>

On the polished wooden table was the food platter. The perennial afternoon tea favourite in the house was Squirzzles. The kids liked them not only because they were coiled into little ringlets making them visually appealing but because they were small so taking one wasn't such a big commitment for a smaller beak. The added bonus was that anyone, including their dad, could eat them because they were mild in taste and Morgana always cooked with freshly caught ingredients.

"Raya's gone again." Justin complained as their father contemplated where everyone else was sitting and sat down in the available chair around the corner from his wife instead of his normal seat at the other end of the six seater table. Gosalyn picked up a Squirzzle and put it between her beak, deciding against speaking for the moment and allowing herself to calm down from her earlier lecture of enlightenment.

"I don't think I like this new boy of hers very much." Justin continued. "He takes away all her time. I want my sister back to play with." He grabbed a Squirzzle from the platter and took a bite of it.  
>"I know, Justin." Their father said. "But what they're doing is very new and quite tricky for them. They're trying very hard to figure it all out between them. Once they've figured out how to do it, I'm sure we'll see more of Raya again."<br>Justin shook his head in disagreement. "That didn't happen to Gosalyn. She knows how to be Quiverwing, so why'd she disappear for so long?"  
>Drake looked up at Gosalyn. "Gosalyn? Could you explain to Justin why it's so important for Director Grizlykoff to have you there at work?"<br>"I ..."

The answer wouldn't come to Gosalyn's mind.

Gosalyn dropped her shoulders and sank back in her chair. "I don't know, Justin." She answered weakly. "I haven't got a clue." Gosalyn felt her family staring at her. "I just do what I'm told," she explained hoarsely, "hoping that'll make him happy with me ..." she sighed "somehow."

"Well, that settles it then!" Justin suddenly broke the silence. "I'm going to have a few words with this boy of Raya's the next opportunity I get."  
>"He's a few years older than you, honey." Their mum reminded him gently.<br>"Age isn't important, mummy. I'm big on the inside and I can be every bit as mean and tough as him if I want to be." He took a breath, "and he might be stronger because he's older but I'm clever and I've been practicing so he doesn't scare me one little bit."

Gosalyn heard their mother sigh. "He's your son, Drake. Perhaps you can oblige to catch that one."  
>Gosalyn looked over at their father who had a thoughtful look on his face. "Big, mean, tough and strong." He mused.<br>There were those words again. "What is he, dad?" Gosalyn asked, "some biker dude?"

"That's Raya's description." Their father replied, reaching for another Squirzzle and then sat there watching it in his fingers like it might move if he watched it for long enough.

"Whenever you meet a new person, Justin," Drake said in a detective tone of voice, "regardless of what anybody has told you about them, you should always proceed with caution. You've got to figure them out for yourself; never rely on others to colour your judgement. Yes, that may be how they act around that other person and that's very important too, but how will they act around you? Always proceed with caution and quietly gather your clues for yourself."  
>"Hmm." Justin mused with half a Squirzzle in his hand. "Clues first. Okay, daddy." He popped the rest in his mouth and chewed on the idea.<br>"Well, that wasn't quite what I meant." Morgana quietly said to herself. "But that will do."

Gosalyn picked up another Squirzzle, realising she wouldn't have much time for dinner before she headed out.  
>"Gosalyn, are you going to S.H.U.S.H. tonight?" Their mother asked.<br>She looked up at her mother, swallowing as she reconsidered her evening activities.

'It won't change anything whether I report in to S.H.U.S.H. or not. He's still going to be mad.' Gosalyn found herself changing her mind. 'I'm not going to be much good on this case until I've done something about getting some answers to the fireworks factory incident.'

"No." She finally resolved, looking across at her dad. "I need to get some feathers from Steelbeak, so technically I'm still following him anyway." She declared and felt rather exalted from the release of pressure that resulted from making this decision.  
>"Feathers?"<br>"Yeah, mum," Gosalyn explained feeling positive with the opportunity to actually 'do' something, "I've got this real nagging worry at the back of my head about Steelbeak and I want it gone one way or another. Can I borrow some of your moult liquor?"

"Hang on; hold up, just a minute here." Drake interrupted.

"What's wrong, dad?" Gosalyn looked back to her dad who wasn't looking very impressed.

"Why not just pluck him?" He grizzled darkly. "Nobody looking for my feathers has ever been so courteous as to slip me moult liquor." He complained.  
>"Not Steelbeak, dad." Gosalyn insisted. "I won't get within three feet of him before I have a dog pile of eggmen on me."<br>"That doesn't sound like fun." Justin remarked.  
>"It's one of those things you want to avoid in life, kid." Gosalyn spared Justin the details.<p>

"But I know the club where he likes to hang out and I know his biggest weakness. That gives me an opening to use an indirect approach."  
>"That certainly sounds different." Morgana mused.<br>"If I want the feathers ..." Gosalyn smiled gratefully over at her dad. "I've got to do what it takes."  
>"Good." Drake said decidedly. "That's what I want to hear. I like this plan better than just going straight back to S.H.U.S.H."<br>"If that's settled then I'll get you a dose of the liquor before I leave for work." Her mother resolved in line with her father's affirmation.  
>"Thanks mum."<p>

Gosalyn looked down at the lone Squirzzle on the platter. "And thanks for afternoon tea."  
>"I helped!"<br>"Yes, thank you, cutie." Gosalyn told him and found she was reaching for the lone Squirzzle at the same time as the assistant chef. "May I share the last Squirzzle with you, Justin?"  
>"Hmm." Justin watched the Squirzzle motionless on the plate. "I'm going to have dinner later anyway and I'm sure you won't eat more than a carrot before you leave ... so okay."<br>"Thank you very much." Gosalyn picked up the Squirzzle and pulled it apart, handing half to Justin. He popped his half between his beak and closed it.

"Yum." Gosalyn grinned and put her half between her beak as well.


	12. Ch 1 Scrabble

**Scrabble Detectives**

* * *

><p>"Which club is Steelbeak haunting?"<br>"It's the Blue Parrot, dad. It's a cabaret lounge sort of thing."  
>"That's Maxy's place." Gosalyn's father nodded. "He runs a clean business. Steelbeak must be there for the variety shows."<br>"You've been in there, dad?"  
>"Only like my whole youth. Maxy's dad used to run it when my mother worked there."<br>"What did she do there?"  
>He cleared his throat. "I'd start with qualifications first. My mum was a trained magician. It was the slight of hand that you've seen me do, not the substantial stuff like your mother's moult liquor. She was her own variety, my mum." He sighed, sitting back in his chair. "She couldn't fit everything that she knew in the one act. Maxy's dad took good care of us and Maxy's just as honest a man as his father. I've interviewed him before. He's straight."<br>"He's checked out clean, dad." Gosalyn consoled him. "Don't freak on me."  
>"Do I 'freak', do I?"<br>Gosalyn smiled carefully. "I think we'd arranged with Justin yesterday that we were going to play scrabble."  
>"Hmm."<p>

Their father stood up, collecting the empty platter. "Did you hear that, Justin?"  
>"Yes, daddy?" The little duckling answered, looking up at him.<br>"Changing the subject is a standard diversionary tactic. When you do not want to answer a question, you can change the subject to a matter or other topic that interests your interviewer. If they're not alert enough, they may not even realise that you have averted their original question." He twisted on his heel and left the room.  
>"How very interesting." Justin said quietly to himself. "I'd better watch Raya's boy very closely and see if he does it."<p>

* * *

><p>Their father returned to the table with the scrabble set.<p>

"Daddy, what does it mean when they sneak around your question like that?" Justin asked.  
>"In your sister's case it meant 'yes but I don't want to hurt your feelings'. It could mean 'yes, but I don't think you will understand' or 'yes, but I don't think you'll let me explain how complicated it all was that made it so', and sometimes it means 'no, but I'm still embarrassed about the truth', or even 'no, but I'm going to let you figure it out for yourself, nah nah'."<br>Justin groaned. "That's too hard! You're saying it could mean anything!"  
>"So get suspicious and ask a tricky question that gets in behind them."<p>

Drake opened the board up. "Gosalyn, did you kill Mr. Boddy?"  
>"Um," Gosalyn quickly thought up a non-answer. "So Mr. Boddy is really dead this time? It's not just a rumour?"<br>"Gosalyn, where were you at two o'clock this afternoon?"  
>"I was at the park."<p>

"Aha!" Justin exclaimed with excitement. "Because she didn't answer yes or no, so you couldn't tell what the truth was so you had to keep on asking!"  
>"Were you alone at the park, Gosalyn?" The father continued his questions.<br>"Maybe ... what's it to you?"  
>"You're not being very helpful, Gosalyn." Justin admonished severely, making her giggle.<p>

"Mum," their father turned his head, "how was your relationship with Mr. Boddy before he died?"  
>"Well, I didn't really know him all too well," Morgana answered. "Now, what sort of question was that last one, Justin?"<br>"Oh, I know, it's ... open-ended!" Justin answered. "You could answer it how you feel."  
>"And because they can answer how they feel, Gosalyn and your mother, who won't answer a straight question because they may think the questions are silly or that I should know better than to even ask, can still answer it truthfully. This sort of question lets them give as much information as they feel safe to disclose."<br>"Keen gear!" Justin whispered in amazement. "It's a great big world of 'not lying'."

"Would you like to try an open-ended question on your father, Justin?" His mother prompted. "Something about wood and metal?"  
>"Yeah, um ..." Justin thought carefully, "what makes a metal post better than a wood one? In your opinion, dad?"<br>"It's sturdier. Unless you're talking about one of those really tall posts, because they're just as careful to put them into the ground properly so they don't shift too much under pressure."  
>"What sort of pressure could hit a post like that to make it move?"<br>"A car could hit it. If it's not put into the ground properly or if it's not strong enough, the car will collect the post and keep on going."  
>"Whoa." Justin sat back. "Then our whole front fence is made of steel so a car crashes into it, not through it."<br>"It'll sure slow it down, son. Wood won't do the same job."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn shifted her chair up closer to Justin's, carefully holding her egg while she did it. "You think of everything, dad." She grabbed the bag of tiles. "I'll play on your side this time, Justin. Now, we need to get seven tiles, and we can't look at them till we've picked them, and we don't let any of the other players know what we've got."<p>

"Okay." Justin pulled out some tiles, fumbling to keep them secret.  
>"Put them here." She helped her little brother get them on the rack. "So now we can organise them." She handed the bag to their mum. "Now we want to make the best word we can. See the little numbers? That's the points it has. When we put them on the board, we get at least that number of points. Depending on where we put them on the board, we could get heaps more points."<br>He picked up the blank tile and checked the back. "What's going on with this one, Q?" He whispered not-so-softly. "I think we need a new one."  
>"No, that's a blank - an any letter tile. It's there to help you make better words." She began putting the letters into a word.<p>

"How about we go without scoring this round?" Their mother asked as she studied her selection.  
>Gosalyn smirked. "Sure, mum. Justin, try not to get too competitive when playing games."<br>"Yeah, it doesn't matter who wins." Their father added.  
>"The point is the time you spend with each other." Gosalyn finished.<p>

Justin looked at Gosalyn then back at their dad then to their mum. "Why do I feel suspicious, mummy?"  
>"You should be, dear. These two are terribly competitive. Don't ever get into a game with them without first preparing yourself for a proper battle. If you're all still thinking, and we're not scoring, I suppose I should go first." She started putting her word down.<br>"Hmm." Justin mused and started moving the letters around on the rack for himself.  
>"What about this one?" Gosalyn offered. "See, that fits with the letters mum's put down." She pointed to the board, and started explaining the different ways to make words and the scoring system.<p>

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thank you Eric Weiner, A. E. Parker, Scholastics, Parker brothers and a whole bunch of others. I'd like to know how Mr. Boddy actually survived the second book I have (#3) because that last very colourful ending really seemed quite final to me._


	13. Ch 1 Helpful

**Too Helpful**

* * *

><p>It started getting towards five o'clock.<p>

"Time I should be getting ready for work." Morgana excused herself from the table and Gosalyn took her spot, settling her bundle back in her lap.  
>Drake grabbed the board and cleared the tiles back into the bag.<p>

"One more game before Raya gets home, guys?"  
>"Only one more?" Justin repeated sadly and started taking tiles out of the bag for himself.<br>"You can't play forever, Justin." Gosalyn apologised.

"Years ago I learned," their father countered, "that life is a game and it's your choice whether or not you have fun with each thing you do."  
>"Geez." Gosalyn snorted. "I wish."<br>"It's true; it's all in the attitude."

Gosalyn took the bag from Justin and got tiles out for herself.

"There are no such things as problems, only challenges. Convince yourself it is a challenge and you can have fun winning the game. Teach yourself to do it every time and the game is on."  
>"That's ultra deep, dad." Gosalyn handed him the bag.<br>"Thank you." He smiled at her and got himself some letters. "Of course sometimes the challenge is to get yourself out of a tight spot in one piece."  
>Gosalyn nodded. "It certainly is."<p>

* * *

><p>Shortly Morgana returned to the table dressed ready for the restaurant. She circled around to stand between Drake and Gosalyn and presented a tiny vial to Gosalyn. "Be careful tonight, honey. Metal is definitely stronger than flesh."<br>"Thanks, mum." Gosalyn frowned at her mother, understanding her elder was talking about the F.O.W.L. agent's beak.

Gosalyn looked at the miniature glass vial between her fingers. "That's not exactly easy. I definitely won't have time to fumble with the stopper."  
>"What would make it quicker, Gos?" Morgana asked.<br>Gosalyn concentrated, and raised her other hand. "A tablet." She zapped the vial with the spell in her mind and turned it into a quick-dissolve tablet.

"Oh, now why didn't I think of that?" Her mother tsked. "Kids today think up all sorts of new things. When did I turn old?"  
>"You're only ever as old as you think you are, mum." Gosalyn insisted with a grin. Her dad handed her a serviette and she wrapped the tablet in it. "Have a nice night."<p>

"Thank you, sweetheart." Her mother replied.

As Morgana turned away from Gosalyn, Drake snatched her hand. "I'll see you later, Morg." He kissed her fingers for a long moment.  
>She leaned in to him and for a moment they seemed stuck. "I do have to go to work, Dark," Morgana eventually reminded him in a soft voice.<br>Reluctantly, he released her hand. "N'okay." Drake responded somewhat anti-climaxed. "We can pick this conversation up later."  
>"Oh." Morgana answered brightly. "I look forward to it," she added in a sultry voice and gave him a peck on the cheek.<p>

Morgana circled the table and grabbed Justin up in a hug. "Oh, my baby. You're getting so-oo big!" She cooed in his ear. "I'll see you later, Justin darling. Mummy loves you."  
>"I love you too, mummy." He nuzzled her cheek and then she put him back down in his chair.<p>

Morgana turned and raised her hand. The portal glimmered into existence and she stepped through it, disappearing with a shimmer.

The three returned to their game.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn turned back to her dad, narrowing an eye. "Was that a deep and meaningful conversation then, dad?"<br>"Extremely." He sighed contentedly.

"Are hy-phenated words allowed?" Justin asked in the wake of his mother's departure.  
>"No." Gosalyn and Drake answered in unison.<br>"Alright then. I guess I'll just have to put a different word on the board." Justin started picking up his letters, stringing them on the board and jagging two triple word squares.  
>"Justin! You just used up all your letters!" Gosalyn congratulated, "well done!" Then she added "don't ask me for my help anymore."<br>"Aw." Her little brother frowned at her. "You really are competitive." He reached for the bag. "I'm going to lose now."

"Justin, let me break it to you." Their father said kindly, "you just won on the score side. Your sister and I can't catch up to that unless we do exactly the same thing. And that's extremely unlikely in a single game of scrabble, even with your sister playing." He then went through the scoring on the word for Justin.

"I won?" Justin re-consulted the board, "Can we keep playing this game anyway? I like these words."  
>"You definitely get that from your mother." Drake commented aside. " 'It doesn't matter if you win or lose, so long as you just keep playing'."<br>Gosalyn giggled. "Hey, remember: 'life's a game'. You guys wouldn't be together if mum wasn't like that."  
>"Hmm." He looked down at the board. "That would be a good way to describe an ulterior motive. Be careful with Steelbeak, Q. You may know where he goes every night but you don't know where he's going with it."<br>"Where is he going with it, dad?"

They heard the front door open and instead of answering her father turned his head away from the table. "Hello, Raya!" He called out through the doorway.  
>"Hi, dad." Raya poked her head into the formal dining area. "Hi Justin, hi Gosalyn."<br>"Do you want to play scrabble with us?"  
>"No, I-I'd better do my homework." Raya said as she stepped back out of the room.<br>"Can I do it for you?" Justin called out in offering.  
>"N-settle down, Justin." Their father insisted. "That was a half-truth. I'm going to go talk to her."<p>

Justin frowned at their stopped game. "Gosalyn, do you think I'm being 'too helpful'?"  
>"Goodness no: I love it! It's definitely a growth phase for the better. This is you, appreciating that there are other people in the world to share with and sharing makes a better world. It never hurts to ask if you can help."<br>"That's not what dad just said." Justin replied unhappily.  
>"Yeah," Gosalyn snorted, "because dad thinks homework's this big personal thing about Raya learning for herself."<br>"O-oh." Justin sighed in relief. "Personal! I understand now."  
>"You understand what 'personal' is?"<p>

"It's what Raya says whenever she doesn't want to tell me something." He frowned. "It's a secret."  
>Gosalyn looked at Justin in empathy, "hey, cutie, you understand it about as much as I do and I've been trapped doing my own homework for years."<br>"It's not a prison sentence, Q. It's just a couple of pages you fill in."  
>"Yeah? That easy, you reckon? I should get you to do up my 239PS for work."<br>"Aren't there a zillion different forms at your work to learn?"  
>"Honey." Gosalyn started collecting up the tiles into the bag. "I am always doing a 239PS. Sometimes it's a 127PB, a couple times it's a 178PW, but it's often or not, a 239PS."<p>

"You don't make it sound like much fun."  
>"It's okay. So long as someone doesn't pick on you because you were in a hurry and mixed up a couple of letters in a stupid street name." She sat back in her chair. "Dad's right, Justin. Help out if you like, but don't start doing someone else's work. Always think what's fair on you. In a few years, you'll be doing the same homework anyway."<br>"I'd hope to be smarter by then."  
>"And Raya isn't?" She prompted.<br>"... Maybe I can wait to do my own." Justin realised.

Gosalyn carefully got her bundle and put it on the table, "come here, cutie." She reached down and lifted him up into her lap. "What a good little boy you've grown into." She sighed, looking at her egg in front of her. "I'd like to hang around and play another game with you, but I've got this really uncomfortable feeling under my feathers and I need to go shake it off."  
>"Okay, Q." He looked up at her. "I love you, sis."<br>"Yeah, love you too, kiddo."  
>He hopped down out of her lap and she picked up her egg and headed up the stairs to relinquish her duty to her dad.<p>

* * *

><p>"Man, oh man!" Gosalyn exclaimed to herself as she got to the landing. "This couldn't be harder if I tried." She stepped over to Raya's door and knocked hesitantly.<br>"Yes?" Raya's voice sounded out.  
>Gosalyn opened the door. "Hi, I'm sorry to interrupt," she apologised to the two of them. "I've got to go, dad, I'm itching."<br>"Okay, sure, hon." He reached up his hands and took her bundle from her. "Good luck."  
>The empty feeling not having her egg gave her made Gosalyn grimace as she turned for the door.<p>

"And."

She turned back to her father's firm voice.

"I should, if I were you, be asking myself 'why' because your answer earlier just was not good enough. It makes me doubt whether you have your motives in the right place. It makes me seriously doubt it."

Gosalyn blanched at the dark severity in his voice. She felt a horrid gnawing on her insides like she'd done something gravely wrong. "Yeah, dad. I sure will."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn turned from closing the door and looked back up the corridor the way she'd come. "I'm missing something. I don't think it's the egg." She closed her eyes. "I have nothing for my getup, that's why." She went into her room and started digging through her closet. She dragged out the shoebox and pulled out the dreaded high heeled shoes. "These better fit." She struggled her webbed foot into it. "Now I remember why they only left the box once."<p>

She frowned, remembering her last school dance, and how she'd cornered her boyfriend at the time flirting with a cheerleader. "Alas, poor Ulrich, you had it coming. Never wear suede and double cross Gosalyn Mallard in the same session ..." she sighed, "in the same room as liquid refreshment." She took the shoe off and headed downstairs with the pair, checking the serviette was in her pocket. She sat down on the armchair in the corner of the lounge room and pressed the mouse head, spinning away into darkness.

* * *

><p><em>AN: PS - pursue suspect_  
><em>PB - provide backup<em>  
><em>PW - protect witness.<em>


	14. Ch 2 Cabaret

_A/N: NOT perfect. NEVER perfect. PERFECTION is what gets past the publishers._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWO<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Cabaret<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Early Friday Evening)<em>

Parking the ratcatcher a couple streets down, The Quiverwing Quack slipped through the shadows and into the alley behind the Blue Parrot.

The back door was locked so from the underside of her sleeve Quiverwing detached a bobby pin and jimmied it open.

She stepped in through the entrance and along a narrow corridor. "There's only one person crazy enough to pull this and that would be me."

The teenage crimefighter took a breath and snuck into one of the changing rooms, submerging quietly into the massive clothes rack the instant she saw it. She surveyed the two women chatting across the small room. The two doggettes were dressed in green and silvery sequinned dresses.

Quiverwing looked through the clothes on the rack in front of her. 'There's another one of those outfits like theirs.' She switched her purple uniform for the evening dress and tucked her gear between the crowd of colourful costumes on the rack.

She reviewed her new outfit. As luck would have it for Quiverwing the dress she'd picked actually fit fairly well so she didn't need any of the safety pins from her utility belt. 'These dresses don't leave much stashing room for necessities.' She noted as she considered what she was taking versus what equipment she was leaving behind.

'Right ... next?' Quiverwing turned as one of the girls came around the clothes stand.  
>"Oh, that simply does not match." The girls reviewed her presentation critically. "Here." The first girl hooked a set of silvery dominoes over Quiverwing's purple mask and hurriedly pulled her across the room to the mirrors. "Now, let's do something about that hair quickly. Jane, give me that hairbrush there."<br>"Here, Sarah. Gosh, we'd better hurry."

* * *

><p>Quiverwing clenched her teeth and sat down in front of the mirrors. 'This had better pay up.' She picked up the makeup jars and changed the colour of her eye-shadow so it worked with the silver dominoes as the two women did her hair up into a dozen curls on her head.<p>

"Well, now, what do you think?"  
>"I think that won't fit back under my hat, Jane." Quiverwing responded instantly. "But I guess we all look like Betty Boop now so I can't really complain. Thanks."<br>The two doggettes stared at her. "Y-you're not Celoonsa!"  
>"Gosh but you look so much like her!"<br>Quiverwing pursed her beak and looked for a few choice words. "Whoever you think I am, citizens, I appreciate your help regardless."

"She sure doesn't sound like Celoonsa!"

"Oh, my gosh! Are you her sister? Did Celoonsa send you in her place?"  
>Quiverwing stood up watching them. "I am 'The Girl's Quack'."<p>

"Y'mean Audrey Wishbone?"  
>Quiverwing eyed them wearily. "There isn't time for a proper explanation. You guys do your thing and I'll just follow your lead."<p>

"But - you ... you can't do our dance!"  
>Quiverwing rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Sarah, and you can't dodge bullets. Where's the fire on your end?"<br>"No, you don't understand. That's Celoonsa's dress."  
>'Great: exclusivity.' Quiverwing frowned as she considered their dresses. They were indeed greener than hers. "I thought it was a spare. My plan was to get into the club by tagging along with you guys."<p>

"I'm confused" interrupted Jane.  
>"You're not the only one." Quiverwing empathised. "None of this makes a lick of sense to me either."<br>"Have you ever been on stage before, Audrey?"  
>"You have nothing to worry about." Quiverwing reassured her. "I do this all the time. Just tell me what you've got and I'll match you."<p>

"Do you know the song _Plaisir d'Amour_?" Sarah asked.  
>"Sure, it was in <em>Duckie III <em>so I've got it embedded in my brain."  
>"<em>Duckie<em>? Isn't that a boys movie about underwater wrestling?"  
>"It's a biographical tale!" Quiverwing quacked. "The point is I know the song!"<p>

"Good, because we need you to sing it."  
>Quiverwing took a breath. "It's easy; I'll just sing it in French. Go through your dance moves with me and we'll be set."<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing listened intently as Sarah and Jane outlined the number they did.<br>"Have you got it? We've only got two minutes now!"  
>"It's okay, Sarah, I've got it." Quiverwing assured her with her confidence and stepped towards the door.<p>

"Let's get musical." Quiverwing rubbed her hands together in excitement, thinking about bagging a fistful of feathers from the criminal cockerel. 'Boy, this is going to be good!' She put her hand to the doorknob and glanced back at the others. They were staring at her like she'd said something peculiar. "What? What's the weird look for?"

"It's just funny the way you said that, Audrey."  
>"It's Celoonsa, remember?" She led them out of the room and up the corridor.<p>

The three of them moved up into the stage wing and waited for their cue.

* * *

><p>Quiverwing matched the tragically slow melody as it began playing out of the speakers. She did her best to stay clear of the other's dance moves while being the unique centre of attention with the microphone.<p>

_"Parlez moi d'amour_  
><em>Redites-moi des choses tenders<em>..._"_

Quiverwing was doing her very best to get the painfully slow words out of her crop.

_"You know well that underneath it all_  
><em>I don't believe any of it<em>  
><em>But meanwhile I want to still hear those words<em>  
><em>That I adore"<em>

_"Speak to me of love_  
><em>Tell me those tender things again<br>__Your beautiful speech  
><em>_My heart is not tired of hearing it  
><em>_Provided that you will always  
><em>_Repeat these supreme words  
><em>_I love you"_

_"Your voice with its caressing sounds  
>That murmurs in trembling<br>Rocks me with its beautiful story  
>And in spite of myself I want to believe it"<em>

_"Speak to me of love_  
><em>Tell me those tender things again...<em>_"_

The audience was a vague night-time beach out there with faces scattered like silent sea shells around the tables and she couldn't even see who she was looking for as she continued to sing.

_"Sorrow is quickly quieted_  
><em>And consoled from a kiss<em>  
><em>From the heart<em>  
><em>Wounds are healed by reassuring words"<em>

_"Parlez moi d'amour_  
><em>Redites-moi des choses tenders<em>  
><em>Votre beau discours<em>  
><em>Mon coeur n'est pas las de l'entendre<em>  
><em>Pourvu que toujours<em>  
><em>Vous repetiez ces mots supremes<em>  
><em>Je vous aime"<em>

The song ended and the curtains closed.

'No way!' Quiverwing stepped out in front of the curtains. 'I've got to do something more interesting than that to get his attention!' She snatched the microphone from the man approaching her. With her free hand she toyed with his tie. "Help me out, here." She said quietly to him. "Can you get your boys to play Creedence's _I put a spell on you_?" She then stepped back, letting his tie slide slowly out from between her fingers.

"Celoonsa, this is a variety show. There-."  
>"Glad to hear it. You're a real sweetheart." She smiled, turning slowly to the audience.<p>

* * *

><p>"Le Mageek." Quiverwing stated, continuing to slant her words into a foreign accent. She snapped her fingers, letting loose a pinch of fairy dust she'd requisitioned from the last time she cleaned out her mother's Christmas fairy feeders.<p>

The music started up behind her.

_"I'll put a spell on you."_

She pointed at the generality of the audience.

_"And make you mi-ine. _  
><em>You're gonna stop the things you do-oo,"<em>

She took a measured breath.

_"I ain't l-y-i-ng."_

_"I ain't gonna take no more  
><em>_Fooling around  
><em>_This witch is casting a spell  
><em>_That's right  
><em>_You're going down"_

_"I'll put a spell on you  
><em>_And make you mine."_

As the instrumental started Quiverwing stepped off the stage, mimicking after her mother's way of walking. She circled the audience slowly, playing conjurer with roses and playing cards, engaging her listeners as she continued to sing.

She found the F.O.W.L. operative sitting at table eight. Oh, boy was Quiverwing happy to finally see him! She smiled at him and leaned across the table towards Steelbeak. Casually she conjured a card from his collar before straightening up and dropping it on the table before continuing on.

_"I put a spell on you_  
><em>And now you're go-ne!<em>  
><em>My whammy fell on you<em>  
><em>And it was stro-ng."<em>

She wended her way back to the stage.

_"Yeah,  
><em>_There will be no more  
><em>_Fooling around  
><em>_Now I've cast this spell  
><em>_And taken you down__."_

_"I've put a spell on you,  
><em>_And now you're mine"_

As Quiverwing finished the song she raised her hands. She cast a proper spell, throwing up a rainbow across the room and then she bowed.

* * *

><p>Quiverwing walked off stage into the wing and handed the microphone to the guy holding his hand out for it. She watched him head out in front of the curtains and two more guys stepped past her. One of them sat down to the drum set sitting at the back of the stage and the other one plugged his guitar into the amplifier.<p>

The curtains raised on the two duck band. Quiverwing felt a tap on her shoulder and turned as the music started belting out of the speakers.  
>"Sister."<p>

Quiverwing frowned at the guy who'd just finished introducing the next act, "yeah I know; don't quit my day job."  
>"No, I-mean ... sure you're no prima-donna, but there's a gentleman in the audience that wants you to come round to his table." He swallowed, watching her nervously.<br>"I'm crossing my fingers; which guy would that be?"  
>"Table eight. Take the side stairs around there," he pointed.<br>'Oh, a whole table? What luck.' Quiverwing shrugged and walked back into the front section. 'The lesson on garters was good value, dad.'

* * *

><p><em>References<em>

_Leading historical female actor with red hair reference: Audrey Hepburn_

_Betty Boop by Max Fleischer_

_Creedence Clearwater Revival: _I put a spell on you_ & Disney: _Hocus Pocus_._

_Duckie - As I write it: acclaimed movie series about a champion underwater wrestler. Parody on the title 'Rocky'._

Plaisir d'Amour_ is written by Jean Paul Egide Martini and depending on who is singing it, it can be very eerie and hypnotic indeed._


	15. Ch 2 Serpent

**The Charming Snake**

* * *

><p>Quiverwing watched her steps, continuing to copy the way her mother walked as she stepped across the room.<p>

Two eggmen sat in wooden chairs on the left and the right in their usual red, yellow and white outfits. Steelbeak sat on the cushioned bench, framed by decorative greenery.  
>"Table eight. Were you wanting my attendance, gentlemen?" She smiled seductively at each of them in turn.<br>Steelbeak cleared his throat. "Scram, boys." He gruffly ordered his underlings.

The eggmen promptly got up and departed swiftly.  
>"I love a man with such a commanding presence." Quiverwing teased with a smirk as she looked back at their boss.<br>"You ain't too shy yourself, sweetheart. The name's Steelbeak."  
>"Steelbeak? How very unusual." Quiverwing blinked at him feeling slightly amused as the idea popped in her head. 'So I guess you don't want me to call you John!' "Do you think you really are so safe to be alone with me?" Quiverwing winked down at him. "Le mageek, after all."<br>"Yeah?" The cockerel laughed and he sounded a lot more relaxed than on the battle scene. He stood up and rounded the table, grasping her hand and raised it to his beak. For a heart fluttering moment Quiverwing forgot who either of them were and blissfully enjoyed the moment of attention as he gently kissed her fingers.

"The guy what plays it safe and don't take no chances is a pathetic schmuck what never lived." There was a glint of mischief in the rooster's eye. "I'd like to show you something, Celoonsa."  
>Quiverwing raised an eyebrow. "You want me to take a chance and go somewhere with you?"<br>"Yeah, unless you got someplace better to go. Of course, a doll like you probably hears it all of the time from guys."  
>'Yikes; a doll?' The seventeen year old crime fighter quickly turned away from him in shock. 'I don't recall him calling me anything but 'kid' or something bitey ...' she looked down at her dress. 'It's the outfit; I didn't even realise I might be overdoing-."<br>"Ye-ah, I got you figured out, babe."  
>Quiverwing snapped her mind back to attention and turned to him again. "Oh, do you really?" She raised an eyebrow at him. 'So much for being inscrutable! Now what?'<br>"Yeah." He answered in a voice of certainty. "You're married and you hate-his-guts!" There was a distinctly wicked gleam in his eyes as he finished telling her about herself.

Quiverwing blinked. "It's not exactly what I'd call married, Steelbeak" she modified. "Slavery, perhaps ..." she admitted under her breath.  
>"Oh, boy." Steelbeak grimaced, crossing his arms. "Let me guess; he wants to know where you are all of the time." He rolled his eyes.<br>"That's true." She answered, quietly amazed at his insight. "How can you tell?"  
>"That ain't the half of it, sweet-cheeks." He nodded knowingly. "You probably took off from him to be here and he's probably wondering where you are right now."<br>"D'oh, yeah." Quiverwing rubbed her forehead feeling that familiar headache she always got when Grizlykoff started ranting at her. "He'll be flipping alright."  
>"So?" Steelbeak chortled quietly, lifting her hand to his metal beak and kissing her fingers again. "You might as well enjoy the break."<br>His breath was warm and gentle on her feathers and Quiverwing's heart was pounding again. For another brief moment it felt as though the whole world was made up of just the two of them. 'Where do you men learn this stuff?'

Steelbeak smiled as he gazed into her eyes. "You coming, doll-face?"

Quiverwing inwardly accepted his invitation. 'Well, I can't very well stay standing here featherless, can I?' "What is it that you want to show me?"  
>"Heh, so you do wanna know, huh?" He purposefully didn't answer her question.<br>Quiverwing held out her hand for him and he took it, letting him lead her away into the unknown.

* * *

><p>Steelbeak walked Quiverwing out of the noisy club and they turned, starting along the dark quiet streets.<p>

"So, may I ask why you have me pegged as unhappily married, Steelbeak?"  
>"It's that trapped look you got on your face." He answered easily. "I see it all of the time. Nah, he don't appreciate you, and you're sticking with him coz 'it's the right thing to do'." He mocked her reasoning and then grimaced. "Makes me wanna gag just thinking about it."<p>

"Maybe it ain't the right thing to do?" Quiverwing pondered as she walked along beside Steelbeak in the peaceful darkness. "I mean, what about me? I haven't even thought about it like that. It's always just been about him. Doing things his way, trying to make-him-happy!" She stared down at the footpath in front of her, fighting back tears. 'You are undercover! Now is not a good time to crack up!'  
>"Now isn't that just sad?" Steelbeak stopped and took her shoulders gently, turning her to face him. Looking at a familiar criminal did help Quiverwing get a grip on herself.<p>

"He don't appreciate you, Celoonsa. And I know that coz if he did he wouldn't treat you like garbage and you wouldn't have that dead and buried look on your face."  
>"Geez. You're saying I look like a living corpse." Quiverwing snorted in personal disapproval. "Thanks for the mental image, Steelbeak. I'll do my best and try not to eat your brains before the morning comes."<br>He chuckled heartily at that. "We're off to a great start."  
>"Well, why not?" Quiverwing asked him in open honesty. "When you are so very charming," she paused, "and thoughtful." 'Boy, almighty! I thought I knew this guy backwards. He ain't none of that stuff or could I really be that wrong?'<p>

"Well, uh ... thanks for the compliment but here's a thought I didn't have before what just occurred to me." Steelbeak frowned apologetically. "I hope you don't think too bad of me for it."  
>"Aw, nuts, already?" Quiverwing grimaced. "Why do you wanna come crashing in on me with the big reality check for, bub?"<br>"Uh, yeah, coz ..." The cockerel laughed nervously. "See, here's the thing. The lifts are out for maintenance."


	16. Ch 2 Level Up

**Just Lose It**

* * *

><p>'The polls are in.' Quiverwing gasped as she ripped the shoes off her feet somewhere between the twenty-first floor and the twenty-second floor. 'I ... am ... in ... sane.'<br>Steelbeak turned, looking down at her from the next landing. "I'm sorry about the lifts being out, doll. Can I take your shoes for you?"  
>"And then what?" Quiverwing quacked, mystified.<br>"Uh, saves you holding them and then you won't lose them?"  
>"Lose them!" The inspiration hit Quiverwing like a shock-wave. "Oh my gosh! What a great idea!" She immediately tossed them over the banister. The dreaded high heeled shoes made an extremely satisfying clatter on their long way down. She sighed in relief.<br>"Shall I ask the cleaners to pick them up for you?"  
>"Yeah." Quiverwing stepped up beside him, feeling her aching feet much better for their newfound freedom. "Tell them to give them to the home for the mentally impaired."<p>

"Sure thing, Celoonsa." Steelbeak chortled. "Beats me how you got so far in them already."  
>"For the correct answer to that question, refer to the address as noted by me earlier." Quiverwing muttered sarcastically. "It's where I escaped from to be here with you tonight."<br>Steelbeak laughed again. "Why were you with those girls? You'd make a great stand up."  
>"Not after little miss ditzy has already walked a couple dozen flights of stairs in those shoes." Quiverwing grumbled with thicker sarcasm.<p>

"Speaking of flights, mi amor." Steelbeak got to the next level and pushed open the door for her. "This is where we disembark."  
>"No way." Quiverwing hesitated at the doorway, feeling like it was the gaping maw of a leviathan of doom. It was about the correct level if this were a computer game. 'Level twenty two, Leviathan of Doom, man, I wish I'd saved more fireballs ...'<p>

Steelbeak stepped back beside her. "What? Don't you believe we got here?" He chuckled. "Or do you wanna keep climbing stairs?"  
>"Oh, ha ha." Quiverwing snorted and peered around the edge of the doorframe. "I dunno; I was just sort of expecting an ogre. You know; the troll guy that always stops you and says in a deep burly voice: 'Who's been trip-trapping-'."<br>"Over my bridge!" The F.O.W.L. agent finished her story quote and laughed again. "No trolls, just my guys. They do what I tell them to."  
>"Oh, that's reassuring." Quiverwing watched the two eggmen stand to attention as she stepped through the door after Steelbeak. 'Not.' They walked up the corridor.<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing's feeling of personal insanity hit an all time high when Steelbeak closed the door after her and she found herself staring around at the cockerel's apartment from the inside. The room was minimalist, bachelor-esque. There were a set of fashionable lounge chairs, Venetian curtains and a rubber indoor plant in the corner. This wasn't overly what she'd expected; his place had few trimmings barring the giant TV and the tidy stack of CDs next to the entertainment system to her right.<p>

"Hey, you know why you walked ten flights of stairs, senorita?"

Having counted the levels personally Quiverwing blanched at the out-and-out lie as he crossed the room to the window. "Please don't tell me numbers like that."  
>"I'll make sure to remember that, toots." He grinned at her and then pulled at the string, drawing the Venetian blinds back to reveal a view of the glittering lights of the city.<p>

"Keen gear!" Quiverwing mumbled to herself as she stepped up beside him. "I can see half of Audubon bay from here! There's the bridge, the Ferris wheel ... is that the ... yeah, the lighthouse!"

"In the daylight you can even see the boats."  
>"That had to have been a few more than ten flights of stairs, Steelbeak. Ten flights and we'd be looking at that neon Ku-Ku-Cola sign." She pointed down at the pink glow far down below.<br>"Yeah, I lied." The criminal admitted deftly. "Sue me, but you can see it was worth it."  
>"Sure ..." Quiverwing glanced along the frame of the window, looking for a catch on the window pane.<br>"What?"  
>"Does it open? I mean, d'uh, you got a balcony."<br>He pointed to the catch, "but it's a bit drafty out there tonight and we're plenty high up."  
>"Oh." Quiverwing sounded, carefully hiding her relief at having another exit option.<p>

"Now you seen a bit of my world." The enemy agent smiled at her. "What's it like where you belong, baberella?"  
>The crime-fighter shrugged as she stared out the window, trying to spot where the boats might be in the inky blackness of the harbour. "Do you mean the 'you work hard and make ends meet' world?"<br>"Is that so?" He mused to himself. "Do you get to see your family while you're so busy working?"  
>Quiverwing didn't like the way that sidling question made her feathers prickle so she decided to change the subject. "What sort of music do you listen to, Steelbeak?" She grinned at him and jumped across the room, eagerly consulting his collection.<p>

* * *

><p>"See anything you recognise?"<p>

Quiverwing glanced back to see him cross over to the bar area that was positioned in the corner between the kitchen and his front door.  
>"Hang on ..." Quiverwing pulled out a familiar album and aimed it so that it reflected Steelbeak at the bar. She watched as he undid the cork and pour out two glasses from the bottle. She pulled out the moult tablet and hid it between her fingers.<p>

As he advanced towards her she refocused her eyes and read the songs on the album. "Yep." She smirked as he came up beside her and handed her the glass from his left hand.

"What's that, cheri?" He asked as she took the glass.

"I recognise the dust."  
>"What'd'ya mean duh-? He-y!"<br>She giggled at his pained expression. Getting even did feel pretty good.


	17. Ch 2 Liquor

**Moult Liquor**

* * *

><p>Steelbeak considered her with a frown. "Alright. How old do you reckon I am, then?"<br>Quiverwing shrugged. 'Any answer I give will incriminate me.' "I just said that to get back at you for the stairs."  
>"Oh, you're a real sweetheart." He rolled his eyes. "Seriously, I wanna know. Is there a date on me?"<p>

Quiverwing grinned and leaned in closer to him, as if tempted to kiss his beak. "Yes," she answered as she dropped the tablet into his wine.

Then he lurched, bumping her backwards. Her drink sloshed spectacularly everywhere.  
>"I'm sorry!" He steadied himself, straightening. "It turns out my old legs ain't up for all of that either."<br>"Oh! Your CDs!" She looked at the red liquid dripping everywhere while she debated on the truth of his excuse. If he had trouble standing why hadn't he sat down on his lounge chair? And more annoyingly how had he managed to not get a single drop on his pristine Armani suit?  
>"The cleaner will fix it." He dismissed quickly. "I'm more worried about your dress. I'll get you a new one."<br>Quiverwing looked down at herself. Her feathers all down her front were damp and she realised she was going to be very sticky when she started to dry. "I dunno about the dress but I think on cursory review I'll live so it really ain't as bad as all of that." She reassured him. "Don't sweat the small stuff."

"Words to live by, those are. Here." The rooster tipped some of his wine into her glass with an apologetic look on his face. "I think you need it now."

* * *

><p>Quiverwing considered the fact that some of the spiked wine was now in her glass. She could only think it was intentional on his part. "I sure do." She looked up at him with a firm smile, knowing the game had distinctly changed between them. "Shall we drink together?" She tapped her glass against his.<br>"What are we cheering to?"  
>"Your age." She grinned at him and swallowed the whole lot in her glass.<br>Steelbeak raised an eyebrow and took an uncertain sip of his drink. "You mind expanding on that one, cheri?"  
>"In the game." She put down her glass on the top of the wet stand of CDs. "Nobody gets to your age, Steelbeak, unless they're really clever. So your age has got a lot to say for you."<p>

He took another sip of his wine, watching her. "You think you're pretty clever, don't you, Celoonsa?"  
>She grinned at him. "I'd like to think I was learning."<br>He finished the small amount of wine in his glass and put it on the stand beside her empty glass. "Or should I say Quiverwing?" His sharp eyes glimmered mischievously at her.  
>"You've been calling me all sorts of names all night." Quiverwing reported, calmly crossing her arms. "I've answered to all of them."<br>"Zombies." He snorted. "Dropping your shoes down the well and not caring." He chuckled. "You might try to be a little more consistent when you're trying to put on an accent too. You ain't no lady."  
>"Okay," she gritted her beak in annoyance, "playtime's over, cockerel!" Quiverwing grabbed her penknife from the garter on her thigh.<br>"You ain't gonna use that thing on me. I ain't done nothing to you and you're the good guy in this picture."  
>Quiverwing scoffed. "You-made-me-walk-up-twenty-two-flights-of-stairs, remember?" She took a calming breath. "I've got just one thing left to say to you, Steelbeak." She stepped forwards and held the short blade near his throat.<p>

The teenager leaned in forwards and kissed him intently. She hooked her spare hand around his lower arm below his jacket and firmly dragged her fingers down to his hand. Feathers came loosely away with her fingers. 'Bingo!'  
>Quiverwing pulled back and held up her hand. "You're moulting early this year!" She grinned at him in triumph and switched the blade of her penknife for the smoke capsule dispenser. She threw one on the floor in front of him and ran to the window, undid the catch and pushed it open. Then she darted to the door and went through it.<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing closed the door gently behind her.<br>She looked at the two guards. "He's fallen asleep if you catch my drift. I'm going home; can you guys call a taxi for me? Thanks."  
>"Uh, miss, you look like you're moulting."<br>"Yeah, I am. It's come a bit early this year."  
>The henchman pulled out his cell phone and called the cab company as Quiverwing dashed to the Exit sign. She shut the door behind her, quickly putting Steelbeak's shed feathers into the small plastic bag and tucking it safely in her bra. She reached under her skirt again and undid the wheel of rope from her thigh. "Yeah, like I'm gonna do twenty-two flights of stairs in two minutes." She opened up the grapple, hooked it to the banister and climbed over the side.<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing got to the end of the rope and climbed back over the banister. It was a ten flight rope and that made her roughly half way down.<p>

Then it dawned on her.

The lifts ... were working. Steelbeak had only pretended that they weren't and she'd actually believed him. "D'oh, he is smart." She took a breath. "And now I'm stuck."


	18. Ch 2 Stairwell

**Stairwell**

* * *

><p>"Quiverwing?" Steelbeak's voice echoed up from far down below.<br>"Yeah, yeah! You don't have to tell me!" Quiverwing quacked down to him.

"I found your shoes for you!"  
>"Wha-at?" Quiverwing burst into laughter despite herself.<br>"Could you do me a favour, toots? Tell me that this moulting thing ain't gonna take all of my feathers out, right?"  
>Quiverwing scoffed at how he worried about his looks just like her dad did. "If it was would I have drunk it too?" She called down to him.<br>"You could have an antidote hidden up where you keep your penknife."

Quiverwing hesitated for a moment. Now that she was reminded of her father, she could hear his voice in her head of how he would answer such a question from Launchpad: 'would you relax?' However, telling her nemesis to relax somehow sounded a little on the defective side to Quiverwing. She could also have said 'Then I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself, won't you?' but that didn't sound entirely fair to her either, since he's been genuinely nice to her face ...

"Oh, you've got me all figured out haven't you, Steelbeak?" 'There,' she nodded to herself in approval 'he can figure out what that means for himself.'

"I'm going out on a limb here and say you didn't do all of this just to play a prank on me."  
>"Pfft." She rolled her eyes, and then called out to him. "No, you think?" Quiverwing jiggled the rope and got the grapple loose from the upper balcony.<br>"Wanna tell me what you want, kid?"  
>She caught the grapple soundlessly. 'So I'm a kid again.' "I'll give you a hint, Steely, since you are so clever. It's a three letter word."<br>"Can I buy a vowel?"  
>"Yeah, I'll put it on your bill." She started quietly walking down to the next level.<br>"E for eggman?"  
>"Nope. You get a jug of custard thrown at you. Oh, and the Screaming Wretch as your dinner date for next Friday."<br>"Hang on; I think I got it."  
>"Have you got a letter or are you just stalling for time, cockerel?" She teased him.<br>"T for trouble?"  
>"Are you sure you wanna go with that one Steely?" She continued walking down to level nine. "If you get it wrong, the consequences could be disastrous."<br>"No worse than next Friday's dinner date. I seen that movie. Shoo-wee. Nasty."  
>"You still wanna go with the letter T?"<br>"Yes, T."  
>"That is 100% correct. You now have two other letters to identify."<br>"O-u-t. You want outta here."  
>"Aha, see, you are smart." She fisted the grapple and the rope, getting ready for a fight as she moved to the nearby door.<br>"You better believe it, doll-face."  
>"Oh, now I'm doll-face again am I?"<br>"What, that ain't your flavour?"  
>"It don't matter to me what you wanna call me, that was just my observation."<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing kicked the door open. "Hello, boys. I'm here to quack you up." She jumped into the middle of the eggmen with a double web-kick to the one right in front of her sending him crashing into the one behind him. She whipped the rope catching two and kicked them back with a cracking thud into the wall. She back fisted the one coming up behind her and landed a web-kick to the last guy standing. To finish off she landed her foot on the one guy stupid enough to try to get back up and he let out a groan of pain before he stopped moving as well.<p>

The teenage crime-fighter did a quick review of the limp bodies around her.  
>"You'll do." She grabbed the thinnest one and quickly undid his clothes. She shoved his uniform over the top of her dress, folding up the length of the silver-green skirt around her waist, tucked her shirt in over it. "Thanks, guy, you can have your gun back." She dumped the gun in the unconscious eggman's lap and put her penknife into the holster instead. She felt her fingers through her hair and rescued a bobby pin, she then grabbed the helmet from the eggman's head and jammed it down over her ridiculous coiled up hairdo. She picked up her rope again, coiled it up into a wheel and hooked it over her shoulder.<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing jimmied the lock on a nearby door. She crept inside the apartment and slipped as quietly as possible through the darkness to the window. As she was just undoing the catch, the light flicked on.<br>"Wrong apartment, sucker!" The resident barked, baseball bat in hand. "I'll do a number six on you, burglar."  
>Quiverwing quickly cast a spell to darken her voice and turned so he could see her disguise properly. "Do you really wanna do that to a F.O.W.L. henchman when his entire outfit is on the other side of that door just itching for a fight?"<p>

The resident hesitated. "Uh, no?"

"Good answer. Now here's the deal, bub, so listen tight. I'm going out your window and I won't be coming back to bother you. And if you don't call out, there ain't nobody what's gonna follow me and you won't have no more trouble. Capeesh?"  
>"Uh, y-yes, sir."<br>Quiverwing saluted the civilian and stepped out of the window. She unhooked the wheel of rope and flung the grapple at the external stairwell nearby. It hooked and she got up on the ledge of the barricade.  
>"You can't do that!" The resident followed her and stood at the window. "You'll get yourself killed you crazy-."<p>

Quiverwing launched off the railing and swung free, sliding down the rope, repelling against the fire escape. She checked there were no eggmen in the alleyway at that moment before she let herself drop right down to the ground. She jiggled the rope and caught the grapple as it fell down, quickly twisted it up and shoved it into her gun holster beside her penknife. '... And she scores the major touchdown, yessirree, this girl's gonna get the sporting scholarship to SCU ...'

Quiverwing looked as a team of eggmen turned into the alleyway, doing their perimeter check.  
>"D'uh ... you seen anything?" The one in front asked.<p>

"Uh ... nope?" She answered in her magically darkened voice. They marched together around the corner back to the front of the large building where they met up with another contingent coming from the opposite direction. Steelbeak was standing in front of the door with a fistful of his feathers, looking mildly irritated. His gaze passed over Quiverwing as fleetingly as all the other eggmen. "You boys see the skirt?"  
>"Nup. Nothin' boss."<br>"I cain't believe she just walked out of here that easy! Taken a page from her old man's book ... I dunno what she's playing at, but the chick sure ain't shy of the old flame. Do another round, boys, just to be on the safe side." He ordered them and then headed inside.

* * *

><p>Quiverwing marched quietly alongside her adopted contingent.<p>

"I dunno what he means by 'safe side'."  
>"Yeah; whose safe side?"<br>The others turned the corner and Quiverwing kept going straight. After she'd cleared five paces, she made a break for it. As she ran up to the next corner and ducked into the next alleyway she didn't hear any footsteps following after her.

"Third base!" Quiverwing exclaimed, catching her breath in relief. "I've only got another three blocks till I can put my proper clothes on." She contemplated ditching the eggman's helmet, then thought it was a better protective disguise while she was only armed with her penknife at the moment. "Speaking of armaments ..." She glanced at the grimy alleyway. "For all the things that go bump in the night and other things that don't make more than the faintest whisper on the wind, I am definitely outta here." She took off at a run.

Quiverwing was just slowing to turn into the alleyway behind the Blue Parrot when a strong arm grabbed her and yanked her out of her stride.


	19. Ch 2 Alley

**Up a Dark Alley**

* * *

><p>Quiverwing shoved her weight back at her attacker, gave him a back elbow to get herself properly free, twisted around and then brought her knee up, kicking him out of her personal sphere. She raised her hands in Quack Fu readiness for another round.<br>He grunted as he staggered to stand up straight again. "Sorry, miss. My mistake." He was a fox with reddish fur, wearing some sort of outfit like a stately penguin, not exactly the typical street rat or junk yard dog.  
>"Who are you?"<br>"I thought you were in trouble." He deflected her question, "you were running like-."

"Like I was avoiding any dark strangers coming at me from dark alleyways, maybe?" Quiverwing offered. "Avoiding doesn't mean I can't handle them if they do happen to jump me. Why'd you grab me if you didn't want a piece of me?"  
>"I thought I could protect you." He frowned at her. "I was mistaken to think you needed it."<br>"Well here's another lesson in modern social etiquette for you, bub: don't jump out of the shadows at someone unless you mean business. Now if you really meant it kindly, please leave now and quit creeping me out."  
>"If you're being followed, you may still need someone to protect you, miss."<br>"I'm doing great so far." She eyed the club's side entrance and imagined the security of her purple costume beyond. "But the longer you stand there, the worse off I'm gonna be because those guys really will catch up to me!"

He took a breath and stepped out of her path. Quiverwing got to the stagehand entrance and put her hand to the knob. It was locked again.  
>"Here, it might just be jammed. Let me try, miss."<br>Quiverwing moved aside as her socially inept visitor put his hand on the knob. He jiggled it and the door swung open.  
>"Thanks." She eyed the fox from behind her helmet's visor. "I will be fine from here, citizen. Thank you for your assistance."<br>He opened his mouth again but she cut him off.  
>"Goodnight." She closed the door behind her and locked it between them.<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing hurried up the corridor and got into the girl's changing room, closing the door behind her. She dashed to the clothes rack. "Yes!" She yanked off the helmet, pulled off the eggman outfit and peeled off the sticky silver-green dress. She'd just tied up her corset when Quiverwing heard voices growing louder in the corridor.<p>

"Next time we'll try it with the apples, girls." A feminine voice said outside the door.

"Just more performers." Quiverwing breathed, calming herself down. They opened the door and stepped inside.  
>"Hello honey." One of the girls acknowledged her, coming over behind the clothes rack to consider her costume sitting on top of the rack. "Are you really putting all of that on?" She picked up Quiverwing's turquoise deflector skivvy. "This is so scratchy." The girl remarked. "Why, it's like steel wool. Isn't it uncomfortable?"<br>"Only if I put it on the wrong way out." Quiverwing grabbed it from the woman and dragged it down over her head, feeling some of her feathers coming out as she did. 'These loose feathers are going to make me a bit itchy.' She forewarned herself.

The inquisitive performer picked up Quiverwing's purple jacket overlay. "This is really heavy."  
>"That's because it's designed to keep me alive." Quiverwing took it from her and shrugged it on. Now she picked up her utility belt from the stand and did it up around her waist. "It's fine once you get used to it. It's a lot more flexible than the normal bullet proof vests that the police wear." She slung her satchel and bow over her shoulder, then took her cape and raised it with a swirl, landing it on her shoulders and fastening it to the front of her jacket with the clips. She yanked on her gloves and donned her hat. "There. Who do I look like?"<br>"You actually look like The Quiverwing Quack."  
>"Amazing resemblance isn't it?" Quiverwing grinned at her.<br>The woman blinked at her. "Goodness, how petite you are under that costume. It certainly makes you look tough."  
>"Hey!" Quiverwing frowned at her. "I am tough whatever the gear I'm wearing!"<p>

Quiverwing picked up the silver-green dress that had seen better days. "Now, before I go putting it into the washing machine of doom, is this dress a dry clean only affair?"

The woman took it from her gloved fingers and opened it out. "Oh, my; red wine."  
>"What; is that bad?"<p>

The woman looked at her as if she had said something a bit unintelligent.  
>"Well, I am sorry. It was Steelbeak who saw fit to spill the drink on me, not me."<br>"The red wine will have stained your feathers too."  
>"That's okay; it'll come right out with the moult." Quiverwing giggled. "Incidentally." She took back the dress. "Is it really no good anymore?"<br>The girl shook her head, tsking. "And where are your shoes, young lady?"  
>Quiverwing looked down at her bare webbed feet. "I had more than enough of those things. They were cheap trash and I don't ever want to see them again. Is the front door still open?"<br>"Yes you can still leave that way."  
>"Good because I didn't feel like using the back door again. Well, thanks for having me. It was an educational experience." She saluted the woman and swept her cape up. Quiverwing twisted the knob and exited the dressing room.<p>

Quiverwing crossed past the stage wing and down into the pit of tables, circled the room and made her way out past the bouncers and through the front door. She walked down the street aiming for the rat-catcher, on the lookout. There were no yellow, white and red eggmen as far as she could see.

* * *

><p>"Leave me alone!"<p>

Quiverwing twisted around on her foot and ran in the direction of the scream.

She stopped nearby of the struggle and assessed the situation. By his methods the assailant was clearly an amateur male duck. No other potential hostiles were in the area.

"I am the Quack in the Dark!" She exclaimed as she raised her bow, aiming the arrow at her quarry. "I might've featured in one of your worst nightmares, I am The Quiverwing Quack!"

He swung around to view her, holding his fierce hands on the cringing woman's wrists. "Y'ain't gonna shoot that thing at me!"  
>"Y'don't believe I'd use it?"<br>"Nope. Why don't you just mind your own business, girlie?"  
>"Y'think you're tougher than me because I'm a girl?"<br>"You're just some silly chick in a costume."  
>"Y'got it all wrong, dude."<br>He turned back to the woman in his grip, "beat it. We're busy."  
>"Busy signals don't faze me. I'll just cancel your network access." Quiverwing fired the arrow at the duck's feet.<p>

The capsule snapped open, the latches sprang back, hooking around his ankles and he tripped over, finally letting the woman in his grasp go.

Quiverwing vaulted forwards, pulling out a set of wrist cuffs from her front pocket. She landed her foot on his chest, winding him. "Now, we can do this thing the easy way or the hard way, bub. The hard way is that you make a fuss and I turn you into a sniveling wreck before handing you in to the cops, you get the picture?" She pushed her foot firmly down on him to illustrate the point. "But you're gonna be napping with the big boys tonight either way. So you wanna do yourself a favour and hold out your wrists all quiet like." He did and she hooked the cuffs on him. Now that he was secured she stepped back, pulled out her phone and then hit speed dial.


	20. Ch 2 Waylaid

_A/N: I'd better put a warning on this one. I'm not sure what I'm warning you against, but ... uh, be warned._

* * *

><p><strong>Waylaid<strong>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing pocketed her phone and looked over at the sobbing woman. "You're going to have to make a statement to the police, ma'am. Or else this guy's going to do it again. Do you think you can manage that?"<br>The woman nodded, shaking, almost unblinking.  
>Quiverwing turned to survey the street for additional threats.<br>"Don't leave me!"  
>"I'll stick around for you." Quiverwing cooed back. "You won't be left alone with him again. Not on my watch."<br>"Th-thank you."

"Do you know who I am?"  
>"The Quiverwing Quack; you used the arrow and everything."<br>Quiverwing nodded. "So what's your name?"  
>The girl looked down at her hands. "Monika."<br>"That's a nice name." Quiverwing nodded. "It means there's only one of you, and that makes you special."  
>Monika blinked at her and turned away, unable to answer.<br>"Aw geez." Quiverwing gritted. "This isn't some guy that jumped you; this was your date."  
>"You didn't give me a chance to explain." Monika said hoarsely.<br>"Some guy is harassing some girl." Quiverwing narrowed her eyes. "No further explanation is necessary; he's going down."

Quiverwing stayed with the alleyway girl and sat in the back seat with her to the station.

* * *

><p>Quiverwing stepped out of the car and watched them dragging the perpetrator out of the other car and up the stairs.<p>

"Man, I'm gonna sue for assault, that loony beat me up. I thought I was gonna die."  
>"Compared to what she does to the rest of the crooks; you got off easy."<br>"Shrimp." Quiverwing snorted to herself. "Next you'll be suing the tooth fairy. No doctor's gonna give it to you, bub!" She called out to him. "Get real."

She listened to the police officers go through the standard procedures with Monika as she filed her own paperwork. They gave Monika a rest after a while, and Quiverwing got up, leaving the officer's desk.  
>Quiverwing fetched two cups of water from the cooler.<p>

Quiverwing handed her a cup. "So now you know this guy, Monika." She stated gently.  
>"I thought I did."<br>"You know him now. He's a real creep."  
>"Deep down he's a nice guy."<br>"Nah, that's just the wrapper. Deep down he's a total loser."  
>"Do you go around thinking that of every guy?"<br>"Do you go around thinking they all care about your point of view?"  
>Monika fell silent.<br>"I know they don't care about my point of view. That doesn't make me any less of a person. I work hard, I get my job done. I do alright on my own when I have to. Can you say the same about yourself?"  
>"Yes."<br>"Then you know you deserve to be treated like a person too. This guy, he's so stupid because he can't act reasonable and treat you like a person. He's really stupid and he doesn't deserve a gal like you. Nah, you're better than that, Monika. If you need a guy so bad, find one that appreciates you as a person."

"I don't know what that means; to 'be appreciated as a person'."  
>Quiverwing mused on the answer. "I think it means being able to agree to disagree. Can he like a thing not coz he likes a thing, but because you like the thing? That scuz-bucket of yours was pushing you and you didn't want to be pushed and he still kept pushing. It wasn't right. It's never right. He's wrong and he's completely wrong and there's no two ways about it. He might not be robbing banks but that makes no difference on whether a guy's fair to you or not."<p>

"It's all my fault. I didn't-."  
>"That's the song he sings you day in night out; I know the tune backwards." Quiverwing snorted. "The fact is you didn't see him sneak up from behind." Quiverwing grimaced, feeling how close to home this actually was. "Nobody has eyes at the back of their heads, Monika, so it's not your fault anymore than it is mine. You trusted this guy not to be a jerk and trust means risk. Everyone has to trust somebody sometime, or the world would stop working."<p>

"Whose fault is it when you buy a can of soup and you go home and open it and it's a can of mud instead?"  
>"Yuck." Monika sobbed at Quiverwing's humour.<br>Quiverwing stood up. "Now you know it's mud, the question is are you going to keep trying to eat it? You've got a good opportunity here, Monika. When you step out that door, you can change your whole life for the better. All you've got to do is decide not to keep eating that mud. So you're hungry, right? There are plenty of cans of soup out there on the shelf to try, you just need to switch brands and take another risk. Look around. There's two nice looking officers right here, there'll be a stack more coming in through that door in half an hour. In a half hour more the streets will be teeming with choices - it's a big old supermarket out there-why oh why do you wanna keep eating that mud?"

"He was nice to me. Sometimes."  
>"So? Anybody can be nice." Quiverwing paused. "Well, almost anybody. But if he's singing the song where 'it's all your fault' then his MP3 file needs deleting because it's wrong. It's completely wrong and there's no two ways about it."<p>

Quiverwing put her hand on Monika's shoulder. "I'm going to leave you now, and it's going to be all up to you what you do with your life, Monika." She turned and walked out of the station, embarking on her long walk back to the rat-catcher as the colour of the sky grew lighter.

* * *

><p><em>AN: That concludes Chapter Two! Anybody interested in the action packed Chapter Three?_


	21. Ch 3 Titanic

**Left Wing: Part 21**

* * *

><p>CHAPTER THREE<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Titanic<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Early Saturday Morning)<em>

The Quiverwing Quack found a spare parking space in the already crowded underground car park under S.H.U.S.H. headquarters and headed up to report for duty. Thanks to the lengthy emotional ride she'd taken with Monika, Quiverwing felt a bit mentally drained as she stepped up to the personal assistant to the director's desk and saluted the mild mannered desk clerk.

"Hello, Quiverwing."  
>"Hi, Mrs. Smith, is the director in?"<br>"Oh, I am sorry, Quiverwing, he's had to step out. But he is expecting you."  
>"Yeah, I'm sure I'm long overdue by now." Quiverwing suppressed a yawn, knowing what else was long overdue ... sleep. "Do you think the director will let me explain myself today?"<br>"I know you have a reasonable explanation, Quiverwing. I have faith in you that you always do your job responsibly and to the best of your ability." Terri frowned quietly.  
>"Thanks, Mrs. Smith." Quiverwing blinked gratefully back at her, "that's very kind of you to let me know of your opinion."<br>"You're welcome, Quiverwing. I only wish my opinion counted for something around here." Terri sighed sadly. "You'd better step inside. When the director returns, I'll let him know you're waiting. Good luck."  
>"Thanks." Quiverwing saluted again and wearily stepped through into the S.H.U.S.H. director's office.<p>

* * *

><p>"Darn, here comes the dreaded waiting game again." She yawned. 'I feel so sticky and dirty. I wish I'd gotten home for a shower. If I'd known I was going to be standing around for two hours doing nothing, I would have gone home for a nap as well.'<p>

The room was silent but for the buzz of the table lamp, the humming of the computer terminal on stand-by and the ticking of the antique clock.  
>'What does the director think I am? Some sort of clockwork bird, standing by, ready to be wound up? Wind, unwind ... wind ... unwind.' Quiverwing stared at the clock on the wall as the monotonous minutes tick tocked on. 'There's a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall.' She sighed sleepily. 'And the bells in the steeple too.' She closed her eyes. 'And up in the nursery an absurd little bird, is popping out to say 'quack, quack' ...' She yawned again ... 'quack ... quack ...'<p>

* * *

><p>"Quiverwing!"<p>

Quiverwing snapped awake at the familiar grumbling sound of the director's voice. She straightened to attention as Acting Director Grizlykoff lumbered into the office.  
>"Sir! Yes, sir!"<br>"Were you asleep on duty?" The grey suited bear accosted her.  
>"No, sir! I was not aware I was on duty yet, sir!"<br>"The minute you step through that door you are on duty. Do not forget it again!"  
>"Sir, no, sir!"<p>

"What is this?" He stepped towards her, sniffing. "You have been underage drinking?"  
>"Undercover, sir." She amended. "It was necessary for the mission I was on."<br>"What was this mission for?"  
>"I needed to obtain evidence. It is a non-S.H.U.S.H. case, sir."<p>

He turned about and sat down behind his desk.

* * *

><p>"Where is this evidence?"<br>"It is on my person. Sir, it is a non-S.H.U.S.H. case." She repeated, desperately hoping they could move away from this topic. There were far more pressing S.H.U.S.H. related matters that they had to discuss. Like the party tonight.  
>"Evidence would be prove that you are not underage drinking."<p>

"Sir, I smell like alcohol because the alcohol is all down my front, sir. In actual fact I only drank half a glass; half of his glass to be precise. I drank it because he already knew I'd spiked it. If I hadn't drunk the wine he would've thought I was trying to poison him, sir."  
>"Do you realise alcohol make you not as efficient, yah?"<br>"Actually it made me kinda freak out a little." She confessed.

* * *

><p>"But I got the evidence I needed so it was a successful mission."<br>"Show me this evidence."

Quiverwing stood there for a moment, frozen to the spot as she remembered where she'd secreted it. "I cannot access it at this time, sir."  
>"I thought ..." he leaned forwards across the table with his beefy hands on the desk, his upper lip twitching slightly, "you said to me it was on your person."<br>She clenched her beak. "Sir, you don't seem to understand."  
>"You cannot clear yourself." He sat back. "Ha, it is as I suspected."<br>"Very well, sir. I shall retrieve it." Quiverwing answered stiffly. She put her hat on the chair's headrest and balanced her gloves beside it. Then she briskly unfastened her cape and draped it over the arm of the chair, making a soft metallic chink as the wired-in-frame collapsed together. Next she undid her utility belt and dropped it on the chair. She glanced at Grizlykoff and then undid her jacket, dumping it onto the chair. The sound of metal sliced through the air. Quiverwing grabbed the bottom edge of her skivvy and yanked it up and over her head. There was a flurry of her feathers in the air. She reached for the zip at the back of her corset.  
>"Stop!" He finally interrupted the flurry of her motions. "What are you doing?"<br>"I thought you wanted the packet of Steelbeak's feathers, sir." She answered frostily.

" 'Steelbeak's feathers'?" He repeated in confusion.  
>She held her breath from sighing. "Yes, sir." Quiverwing hissed out her breath as she answered, "this is the evidence I need to help me solve my non-S.H.U.S.H. related case."<p>

* * *

><p>"Considering the unsolicited way you obtain this evidence, I do not believe it will hold up in court."<p>

"Court!" Quiverwing quacked in shock at the director. The notion of Steelbeak paying child support struck her as utterly ridiculous. "Seriously, sir, that over-preened cockerel made me walk up twenty-two flights of stairs in high heels! I doubt he'd have the decency to follow a court ruling."  
>Grizlykoff rubbed his face. "So tell me again, where is this packet of feathers?"<br>"It's-in-my-bra." Quiverwing answered patronizingly. "I was undercover. I would not have gotten close enough to Steelbeak if I was dressed in my regular uniform, sir." She gestured to her purple jacket on the chair beside her and then waited for the bear to think it all out.

This stupid conversation, that had nothing to do with S.H.U.S.H., seemed to Quiverwing like it was taking forever.

* * *

><p>There was a knock on the door.<br>"Come in." The director called in his grumbling voice.

Senior Agent Sara Bellum stepped inside and halted at the desk, turning her head to stare at Quiverwing beside her.

Quiverwing looked back in weary amusement and explained the situation. "The director was just trying to decide if he wanted me to take my corset off or not."  
>"Sir?" Bellum turned her head towards Grizlykoff in alarm.<p>

"I am not entirely familiar with avians, but are you not moulting early this year, Quiverwing?" Grizlykoff suddenly asked abstractly.  
>"Yes, sir, it was the moult liquor that we both drank so I could get Steelbeak's feathers, sir!" Quiverwing clenched her fist as she felt a fit of hysteria threaten her. "I ... went up there and I spiked his drink. Then he spilt my drink. He gave me half of his drink and we both drank. I got what I was looking for by which I mean his feathers and then I left."<br>"Why did you drink this 'moult liquor' if you knew it was spiked?"  
>Quiverwing put her hands on the desk and leaned forwards. "Because-he's-smart, sir." She gritted. "Steelbeak knew I'd spiked his drink-so I had to drink it so that he would think it was okay and drink it too-so that he would moult-so that I could get my evidence from him. It's really ..." She caught herself from saying 'very simple', "all there is, sir."<p>

"I wasn't aware we needed anyone's feathers at this point in time." Bellum interrupted, looking for clarity for her own confusion.  
>"It's for a non-S.H.U.S.H. related case that I'm working on, Doctor Bellum." Quiverwing explained to her in a strained voice.<br>"Oh." Bellum mused thoughtfully and turned back to Grizlykoff, "so there isn't really any point discussing it further, is there, director?"  
>'Oh, thank you, sweet sanity at painfully long last!' Quiverwing could have hugged the woman. 'My hero!'<br>"I ..." Grizlykoff blinked at Bellum. "Can I see you outside for a moment, agent Bellum? Quiverwing, please redress yourself immediately."  
>"Yes, sir." Quiverwing saluted him.<p>

* * *

><p>As his back retreated through the doorway Quiverwing grabbed her skivvy and yanked it on.<br>"Yikes!" She squawked as she speedily did up her clothes. "I'm on the Titanic! We're all doomed!"

She grabbed her hat and started picking up her stray feathers and stuffing them into it. "Steelbeak knows it too; he's bound to. That's got to be it. Of course! The party!"  
>"What about the party, Quiverwing?"<p>

Grizlykoff stepped across the room and back behind his desk.  
>"Steelbeak. He's planning something for Director Hooter's retirement party tonight."<br>"And you found this out how? Why did you not tell me this earlier?"  
>"Because I just figured it out!" Quiverwing exclaimed, eager at having finally found a lead. "Because Steelbeak knows Director Hooter is retiring and ... and it's in his character." She finished lamely. 'D'oh.'<p>

Grizlykoff laughed at her conclusion. "I think, little girl, you need to leave it to a trained criminal psychologist to determine such matters as ... 'character'."  
>"So then what do the expert S.H.U.S.H. psychologists think Steelbeak's up to hanging out uptown so conspicuously for so long? Sir? He's making us all look like complete idiots. Why's he doing that? What's the point he's trying to make?"<br>"There is not yet enough evidence to determine what Steelbeak's plans are, agent. Maybe if our independent operative working on this case spend more time following procedure rather than ... stray feather ... we would have answer you are looking for."

The Quiverwing Quack stared at him in disbelief, convinced she had only just given him an answer.

* * *

><p>Quiverwing stepped back from the desk. "Yes, sir." She replied weakly. "But couldn't we at least double the guard or ... put a child lock on the door at least?"<br>"The guards are already double, Quiverwing. We have secured many places for years before you were hatched." He chuckled.

Quiverwing frowned at him. Did her opinion count for nothing? "So you're not even-."  
>"You said you went to see Agent Steelbeak, Quiverwing. Tell me; how did you get out of Birdcage Apartments with eggmen all about?"<br>Quiverwing stepped forwards and held up her hand between them, putting half an inch of air between her gloved thumb and forefinger to illustrate. "I very, very barely got away." She acknowledged the reality of how close it had come to him, "it was a narrow escape because Steelbeak is smart." She stepped back again and folded her arms. "My saving grace is that his eggmen aren't."

Grizlykoff frowned at her and then turned his attention to a Manilla file which he picked up from the top of his in-tray. "Report for training, Quiverwing, you are dismissed."  
>"Yes, sir." She saluted and left his office.<p>

* * *

><p><em>AN: So Long, Farewell belongs to Rodgers and Hammerstein_


	22. Ch 3 Straight

**Straight Down**

* * *

><p>After gym came a procedure drilling followed by target practice.<p>

'I should be at home.' Quiverwing stood lined up with the other agents in the booths. 'I never want to be aiming a gun at some guy.' She grimaced as she aimed at the target and fired dead centre.

"Since when is he ever just standing around for?" She yelled out at her fellow gun-totters. "We all know how to shoot at stationary targets! We should be practicing on moving targets if anything."

"Quiverwing, face the front!" The senior agent supervising called back at her.

* * *

><p>After weapons training came lunch.<p>

'How on earth did I come to this end?' Quiverwing sighed as she stared at her S.H.U.S.H. provided lunch. 'I should be at home. I hope dad and mum are alright … doing my job ... while I'm here … doing what? What am I doing here? Time. I'm doing time. This is a penitentiary and I'm in it, eating cafeteria slop.' She grabbed her sandwich and hurled it away to the bin across the room. 'This bites.' She stood up. 'I'm going to ask Grizlykoff for leave starting tomorrow.'

* * *

><p>Terri was on her lunch break. Quiverwing walked past the unoccupied desk and raised her hand to knock on the S.H.U.S.H. director's door.<p>

"Quiverwing will not become proper agent. It is impossible." Came Grizlykoff's voice from the other side.

'I'm ... not ... a proper agent already?' She gaped at the door, her hand frozen in mid-air. 'But I do a full-time week!'

"She takes liberties, disobeys directives, and does not follow procedure. She does not take her duties seriously. She did not show up for duty at all for better part this week."

'I darn well too do what I'm told when I'm in this place! I follow orders when they make sense! And 'serious'? Doesn't spending thirty five hours every single week for the last five months count for anything? Any more serious I'd be terminal! The first time I get laid off with a cold and I'm suddenly the worst person on earth? What am I a slave? Who are you, king Tutan-duckem?' She took a breath.

"Yes, I agree, that would seem most appropriate action if persistent much longer."

'You're going to fire me?' Quiverwing gritted her beak. 'After all the work I've done for you, zeroing in on Steelbeak's activities, you're gonna fire me? You're a rotten dictator!' She twisted around and walked back towards the assistant's desk.  
>Terri was just sitting down. "Oh, I'm sorry Quiverwing; the acting director is in a tele-meeting right now."<br>Quiverwing stopped in the doorway with all the cubicles on the other side, looking back at Terri, feeling overwhelmed and indignant. "It doesn't matter, Terri. A person like that is incapable of listening to reason."

Quiverwing passed down the corridor and sat down in her office cubicle. She found herself staring at her In Tray. It was overflowing with bulky case files and internal administration forms.

"Aw, nuts."


	23. Ch 3 Duck Soup

_UI = Unauthorized Intervention_  
><em>PR = Personal record<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Duck Soup<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Mid Saturday Afternoon)<em>

"Quiverwing!"

Quiverwing jumped out of her office cubicle and straightened to attention. "Sir, yes, sir!"

Grizlykoff frowned down at her. "I have an important task for you to do."

The teenage crime fighter consulted her mental diary. "Does it interfere with my security duties at the party, sir?"  
>"Do not question me!"<br>"Sir, no, sir!"  
>"Come." He turned and she followed him up the hallway.<p>

* * *

><p>They walked into the middle of the enormous empty gym and then he began pacing in front of Quiverwing. She felt her insides clench. It was never a good thing when Grizlykoff paced, because it meant he was thinking and invariably it was about ways to make her suffer.<p>

"In order for a team to function, each member relies on the next to do their duty."  
>Quiverwing raised an eyebrow. "Well, yes of course, sir."<br>"You agree?"  
>"Yes, sir!" She shouted in repeat.<br>"No." The bear smirked, "I do not think you understand."  
>"I know first hand, sir." She gritted. "Because on Tues-."<br>"I did not give you permission to speak!"  
>Quiverwing shut her beak and straightened back to attention, looking forward at the blank space in front of her.<p>

"The cleaner did not report for work today. I leave you in charge of cleaning this floor." He handed her a set of keys. "I trust you know where the mop is located?"  
>'Oh. Well that's great.' Quiverwing fisted the keys in her hand. "I'll make it spotless, sir." She felt her muscles tense ready to move as she waited impatiently for him to dismiss her.<br>"Quiverwing, what are you waiting for? Get to work."  
>"Yes, sir." She twisted on her heel and stormed out of the hall and far and away down to the janitor's cupboard in the basement.<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing unlocked the door and looked inside. "Wait, where's the ..." She looked around. "Well, there's the mop." She took it and chucked it on the floor behind her. "Come on, y'gotta be jokin' here!" She exclaimed. "Oh, that'd be just about right, wouldn't it?" She growled and walked out of the cupboard. "I've to go out and buy one, of course, and then I'll get three quarters of the way through and I'll get yelled at for taking so long. Oh, I just know he did this on purpose." She picked up the mop and threw it back into the cupboard, slamming the door behind her. This was all too much. For a moment Quiverwing considered just walking off the job.<p>

Then her memory flashed back to a time when her dad had saved their lives using nothing but laughing gas and a water balloon. "No, I've gotta be able to do it." Quiverwing tapped her beak for a moment. "This is a paper office. And where there's paper, there's paper waste baskets and where there's an office, there's a tea room and where there's a tea room there's a bin and be it a bin, basket or other plastic container they're all just scuz-buckets when it comes down to it. I just need to find one the right size!" She exalted as she jumped up the stairs. 'Thanks, dad!'

Quiverwing walked in through the corridors and zeroed in on the tea room. Bingo; the rubbish bin was about the right size. She pulled out the rubbish bag and tied it up in preparation for taking it out to the trash chute. "Ha, I just saved myself half an hour and the last ten bucks left in my bank account. Go me."

"What are you doing with that, Quiverwing?"

She looked up at Agent Wahuha. "I'm temporarily requisitioning this rubbish bin."  
>"Have you filled out the papers for that?"<br>She growled at him. "This bin isn't leaving the work premises-."  
>"That's still not proper proc-."<br>"-Josh Wahuha! Under section 24 Alpha I hereby request you get outta my way or I'll file a 34UI on your PR." She narrowed her eyes. "And I'll take special care so it won't have a single spelling mistake on it."  
>Agent Wahuha nervously stepped away from the door. Quiverwing took the handle of the rubbish bin and got to the janitorial closet without any more delays.<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing lugged the now heavy steaming bin into the middle of the gym and plunged the mop into the sudsy water.<p>

The sopping wet mop slapped onto the floor. "Dad wouldn't take this." Quiverwing swirled the soggy mop, spreading the water around the floor. "Steelbeak wouldn't take this!" She gritted. "This isn't Steelbeak's gig." She went back to the makeshift bucket and plunged the mop back into it. "Steelbeak wouldn't ever make me do this job either." She sighed. "Maybe order me to get shot, but mop the floor? Pfft, no way; there's tons more important things to be doing on his list. And I'd be the one doin' 'em!"

She swirled the mop along the extensive wooden floor of the gym. "What's happened here? I'm getting punished for taking a hit; that's what." She grunted in personal distaste. "If the cleaner's not in today, shouldn't we be asking 'why' and checking on him? The guy may be dead, kidnapped or worse but oh, no; he's still letting the team down." She moved back to the bucket. "I get it. I got it." She crossed the floor back to where she'd finished off and continued on. "I've got my lesson."

* * *

><p>Quiverwing moved steadily across the floor, thinking up the perfect words to say to Grizlykoff then. "As soon as the party's over I'm breaking out the dinghy." She repeated to herself, trying to steel her temper into patience with the personal promise.<p>

_"That's it!_  
><em>I've had it!<em>  
><em>I don't wanna be dramatic,<em>  
><em>But it's time for me to ditch this boat<em>  
><em>Terrific!<em>  
><em>Fine!<em>  
><em>I'm untyin' my line<em>  
><em>I'm not stickin' 'round to watch you gloat!<em>  
><em>I was a fool to let you run my life<em>  
><em>I'm cuttin' ya loose, pal!<em>  
><em>Look out below!<em>  
><em>Bon voyage!<em>  
><em>C'est la vie!<em>  
><em>Hope all goes well!<em>  
><em>I'm lookin' out for me!"<em>

She continued to mop the floor, singing quietly to herself, feeling strength in the words as she visualised herself fighting hand to hand with the enormous Grizlykoff in the gym right before her.

_"Okay! I'm little,_  
><em>Been playin' second fiddle,<em>  
><em>And I don't get no respect<em>  
><em>I turn the other cheek,<em>  
><em>But this busted beak<em>  
><em>Is the only thanks that I get!<em>  
><em>I never found a friend that I can trust<em>  
><em>I asked for back-up,<em>  
><em>And all I get is a mop!<em>  
><em>That's some reward for loyalty<em>  
><em>From here on in,<em>  
><em>I'm lookin' out for me!<em>  
><em>Oh, I don't need nobody else<em>  
><em>I'll never fail<em>  
><em>I'll cover my own tail<em>  
><em>I can take care of myself!"<em>

She jammed the mop back into the bucket savagely. "Darn straight!"

_"You know, it just don't pay_  
><em>To give a hoot<em>  
><em>I'm givin' all my heart<em>  
><em>What do I get?<em>  
><em>The boot!<em>  
><em>I'm through with that,<em>  
><em>I'm flappin' free<em>  
><em>From here on in,<em>  
><em>I'm lookin' out for me!"<em>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing finally finished the floor and rinsed out the bin. She dumped the mop back in the cupboard and was about to return the bin to the tea room.<br>"Are you finished yet, Quiverwing?"  
>"Yes, sir." She straightened to attention.<br>The massive Grizlykoff was standing there; once again towering over her. "Have you learned anything from this?"  
>"Yes, sir!" She answered crisply.<br>"Explain to me."  
>"Sir! I do not interrupt Steelbeak when he is arming his explosives! Sir!" She saluted him.<p>

There was a moment of silence as Grizlykoff struggled to understand. "What are you talking about?"  
>"Sir! I have not yet completed the paperwork for the mission yet, sir!"<br>"Then why are you standing around here wasting time? Get to it!"  
>"Sir, yes, sir!" Quiverwing grabbed the handle of the rubbish bin and hauled it off.<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing dropped the slightly damp bin down onto the floor of the tea room and kicked it back into the corner. She put a fresh rubbish bag into it, washed her hands in the sink and then skulked back to her desk. She looked around at the noise of the emptying office. It was dead on five o'clock. At this time yesterday she was sitting with her egg, playing scrabble with her baby brother. She sat down at her desk.<p>

'... Let's see, I was in the middle of writing the phrase "no back-up was provided in due time when specifically and urgently requested" ...' She picked up her pen and set to complete her mission report.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Disney owns Aladdin: Return of Jafar_


	24. Ch 3 PART Why

_A/n: Rock On!_

* * *

><p><strong>P.A.R.T. Why<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Saturday Evening)<em>

After a full day of nothing but S.H.U.S.H., The Quiverwing Quack was finally at the party for retiring S.H.U.S.H. Director J Gander Hooter.

With so many hours gone by since her last proper sleep and with so many months gone by of no one taking her seriously, Quiverwing feeling a bit weary and anxious as she watched the people around her, waiting for Steelbeak to gate crash the event.  
>'Captain Custer of the Titanic is over there near the fruit platter and boy; he thinks everything's ju-ust peachy! Little does he know that the F.O.W.L. iceberg's out there waiting for us to smash into it.' She captioned the situation, trying to cheer herself up.<p>

Quiverwing observed an elderly eagle, quite sure of himself weave his way through the crowd towards Director Grizlykoff ... 'I know who that is; that's Blunt; retired super-spy.' In Hooter's long career in law and order he'd befriended and made enemies with a lot of people like Derek Blunt however there was one person Quiverwing knew who would certainly not be showing up to pay his respects. If this party got out of hand there'd be no Darkwing Duck to rescue anybody tonight.

Drake Mallard was at home egg-sitting for his work-obsessed daughter. 'I've never felt so guilty...' Quiverwing thought again about the kinds of things and the situations she'd historically put her father through. 'Well, at least not in the last year. Ten months perhaps-.' She paused in her thoughts as she saw Director Hooter approaching her.

"Hello, Quiverwing."

"Hello, Director Hooter." She smiled down at him before flicking her eyes around the room again.  
>"I am pleased if a little surprised to see you sticking with the ... uh, 'sinking ship' as it were."<br>"I've got the bucket, sir. That is to say the rubbish bin." Quiverwing grimaced; that actually sounded even worse. But there was no use sending an S.O.S signal to her old boss Hooter, however, so Quiverwing just saluted him and clicked her heels together. "I really miss you, sir." She said sadly.  
>"Everyone has a different idea about how things should work, Quiverwing, and mine has had its time." He rationalised his departure to her.<br>Quiverwing raised an eyebrow. "Geez, someone's sure tampered with that evidence."  
>"Come, Quiverwing, one so young as you can surely see that a new perspective is needed to keep S.H.U.S.H. effective as we move into the future?"<p>

Quiverwing felt tired as she watched the crowd. "Always look both ways before crossing the street." She responded.

"I haven't had a chance to talk with you for a while, young Quiverwing. I was wondering what you've got in mind for your future?"  
>"Oh, I'm thinking of organising that on Monday when the legal offices are open." She replied dryly. "It'll go something along the lines of; I leave anything that I have however meagre, to my descendants and any surplus funds, however doubtful that I would have them, in trust for when they turn seventeen. No wait, I can't do it on Monday." She grimaced. 'I haven't gotten paid yet.'<br>"That's a little grim; I was speaking of the next five years."

The doors burst open and eggmen started filling the room.

Quiverwing pulled out an arrow from her satchel behind her. "So was I, sir."

* * *

><p>"Surprise!" Steelbeak chortled, flanked by two heavy-set eggmen.<br>"Not really, Steelbeak!" Quiverwing raised her bow to take the clear shot but a large furry hand snatched it promptly off her.  
>"Do not release firearm in here! There are too many people!" Grizlykoff reprimanded her as eggmen poured into the room and pointed their weapons at everyone.<br>"You've gotta be-! Sir, I mean 'yes, sir'!"

"Get it off him." Steelbeak ordered and one of the eggmen took Quiverwing's bow from Grizlykoff.  
>Quiverwing snatched her expensive arrow with its nutty putty capsule away from the eggman's grubby grabbing hands. "It's not going anywhere without the bow; chill out, Eggbert." She put it back in the satchel behind her. "We need-."<br>"Uh-uh! Not a peep, little miss purple, or this retirement party will get upgraded to a wake!" Steelbeak tapped his beak and pointed at one of the eggmen who had his gun trained on Director Hooter.  
>Quiverwing folded her arms across her chest, eyeing her nemesis as he threatened the one person she cared about the most in the whole entire room. 'Congratulations, you win this fight, Steely.'<p>

* * *

><p>"Hey, this is a party, right?" Steelbeak laughed and pointed at Quiverwing.<p>

A spare couple of eggmen stepped behind her and dug their guns into her back. Steelbeak got up onto the stage. "I bought some new music for you, girly." He adjusted the sound on the stereo.  
>'What, are you crazy?' Quiverwing blinked as the two stooges directed her onto the stage next to their boss.<br>"You gonna sing and here's the trick. If you get one word out of place my boys will know for sure and they'll put a hole in your retiring leader."  
>'Grizlykoff's not on F.O.W.L.'s radar, huh?' Quiverwing noted silently. 'There's a surprise. Not.'<p>

Steelbeak put a CD in the stacker and selected a track.  
>'Can't take my eyes off of you?' Quiverwing felt her stomach turn over with her disgust. "Not-"<br>"Uh-uh, not one word, remember?"  
>'What sort of word ... like "Dad"?' The purple dressed crime-fighter stared at Steelbeak, realising exactly ... why ... he didn't want her opening her beak. 'He doesn't want me calling Darkwing Duck for help!'<br>He grinned at her, reading the realisation on her face. "Capeesh?"  
>Quiverwing tapped her head then twirled her finger in the air, pretending not to know the gag-worthy song. She held out her hand and Steelbeak handed her the CDs.<p>

"Quiverwing, you are not seriously playing this silly game with -."

The sound of Grizlykoff's voice made Quiverwing grit her beak. She continued to thumb through the 'updates' to Steelbeak's collection. Guns 'n Roses, Hunters and Collectors, Duran Duran, Simple Minds ... 'New how ... from a jumble sale?' She found the newest disc in his pile was Blondie released over ten years ago. She handed him back the stack with that CD on top, wondering if he'd found his copy at the same second hand store as she had. She could just see him looking slightly out of place but entirely nonplussed amidst the heavy metal T-shirts on his quest for the Holy Grail and completely unfazed amongst the acid-free-plastic protected antique Superpig comic books as he searched in vain for Xanadu.

Steelbeak flicked through the tracks. He heard the first two bars and skipped 'Call Me' so apparently he'd heard that song before and didn't think it was appropriate for the occasion, or more perhaps that it'd give people ideas ... He jumped back from the machine when it let out a stream of pipe organ notes like he was the Easter Bunny trapped in the land of Halloween. "That ain't nothing like no Blondie I've ever heard ...?"

_"There's no sin in this getting dressed to kill,  
>laughing down the sun like a jackal will<br>with his eyes ablaze and his lips apart  
>he's gonna fill his cup with the love in your heart<br>and drink it up till the morning starts."_

There was an intense look of study on Steelbeak's face as he listened to the words.

_"Circulate the red light vistas._  
><em>Get the girls and get their sisters.<em>  
><em>Pinch 'em up and give 'em blisters.<br>Kissing fierce with all his might ... forever."_

Man, this song was just too weird for its time. Quiverwing took a breath and jumped into the rap verse, keeping up word for word.

_"... You's a player, and when I say player  
>I mean player coz your daddy and your uncle was a player.<br>Put yourself in your position.  
>You ain't wishin' for no food and no warmth and no light,<br>so you must be doing all right."_

_"But wait a minute! Something's wrong.  
>It's lunatic, it's mad, insane!<br>Busted like a water main.  
>Indulgence in another vein.<br>What they're saying round the neighbourhood  
>is what he's drinking's not aged in wood."<em>

_"Sure enough at the __midnight__ lounge  
>there's a dent in the seat where the -"<em>

Steelbeak jumped at her to stop her from finishing and Quiverwing hooked the microphone cord around his neck.

He gasped. "I saw who did it."

Quiverwing looked up into the crowd and gestured at the eggmen to drop their weapons. "Alright fellahs, Steelbeak ain't destined for no witness protection box. Don't trust me coz I'm crazy enough to do it. Drop your guns or you won't be getting no more orders out of your boss here no more. Get the picture?"

The eggmen dropped their guns and the S.H.U.S.H. agents had them all under guard in the next moment. Quiverwing dropped the stranglehold on Steelbeak and he fell to his knees with a splutter, clasping his neck.

"Well done, Quiver." She heard someone say and Agent Reeves approached with a set of handcuffs.  
>"Is that what you reckon, huh?" Steelbeak chortled and pulled out a set of earmuffs from his jacket pocket before Reeves had reached him. "Well I bet you ain't heard this one before." He laughed as the stereo beeped beside Quiverwing and she realised Steelbeak must have rigged something to it in those moments he'd been alone beside it.<p>

There was an explosion of noise from the speakers that hit her ears in full force, turning everything white and then black.


	25. Ch 3 Detector

**Left Wing: Part 25**

* * *

><p><strong>Detector<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Late Saturday Night)<em>

"Quiverwing? ... Quiverwing?"

"Can't I stay home today, dad?" She was exhausted and rather sleep forever than start thinking again, especially with this splitting headache. "Oh, man, I feel like I've been hit by a number five iron." Quiverwing groggily realised that it hadn't been her father's voice waking her.

A moment later and she remembered who was responsible for her headache. On that last thought she sat up holding her head with a sudden need for retribution. "I'm so gonna clobber Steelbeak for this one." She groaned.  
>"Quiverwing? Are you alright?"<br>"I'm doing great, Director Hooter," she answered back pleasantly, taking a moment to pull herself together, "how are you doing?"  
>Director Grizlykoff cut in. "We are prisoner of F.O.W.L. operative Steelbeak." He reported. "This is no time for idle kitty cat."<br>"Kit kat?" Quiverwing sat up and searched her utility belt. "Here." She handed them both energy bars and scoffed her own.  
>"Oh, thank you, but I'm quite alright for food. Personally ..." Hooter trailed off as Quiverwing unhooked her mini-flask from her belt and took a swig, then handed it to Hooter. "Thank you, er, personally I find it a mystery as to why they have not disarmed you, Quiverwing."<p>

"I'll tell you why."

Quiverwing looked up at Steelbeak's voice, feeling better for the snack and able to think rationally. "It's because my boys were waiting for her to wake up. She's got too many gadgets to count and a good number of them are already loaded as a couple of my boys found out earlier." Six eggmen walked into the room, aiming their guns at Hooter.  
>"Six? Ever heard of overkill, Steely?"<br>"Not when it comes to you, sweet cheeks." Steelbeak nodded at Quiverwing. "Now, if you would be so good as to disarm yourself for the benefit of your director?"  
>"Gee, now when you put it that way how can I resist?" Quiverwing undid her utility belt and dropped it on the floor and then unshouldered her satchel. "You've already got my bow so these aren't really any good but there's the rest of the set." She announced.<p>

"Louigi."  
>One of the eggmen raised a metal detector in the shape of a straightening iron in front of him and advanced on Quiverwing. It beeped in alarm as soon as it got within a foot of her.<br>"That ain't jewellery." Steelbeak gritted. "Ditch the hardware, toots."  
>"Dear god, no." Hooter exclaimed quietly.<br>Quiverwing wasn't fazed by this. "Yeah, it's true; I'm the Tin Quack from the Land of Oz" Quiverwing lifted the corner of her cape and held it from thumb to forefinger, pressing lightly, showing off how springy it was. "See; it's got a metal lattice." She locked her eyes on Steelbeak. "Give me a break, Steely, I'll have to strip right down to the feather to shut that thing up coz even my bra is under wired. But hey, I ain't arguing with the guy holding the gun." She shrugged and raised her hands to the fasteners on her cape.  
>"Wait." Steelbeak stopped her before she'd undone the fasteners. Quiverwing blinked and glanced at Grizlykoff, deciding in that split moment which of her two nemeses was her preferred company before looking back at Steelbeak.<p>

"You good guys cain't lie straight, can you? So look me in the eye and tell it to me straight. You ain't got no more weapons, right, Quiverwing?"  
>Quiverwing carefully phrased her answer and stared confidently back at him. "I've got no other weapons that I can use against you, Steelbeak."<br>Steelbeak paused for a long moment staring back at her.  
>"Well, except for Quack Fu and all of that unarmed stuff." She blushed.<br>"I guess that's good enough with my name on your nice neat label there." Steelbeak tapped his beak. "... Deakin, grab her toys and keep them safe out of reach. Fellahs, make sure-make dead sure she's handcuffed before you bring her upstairs."

Quiverwing watched Steelbeak leave and took a breath of relief that he'd accepted her answer.

Meanwhile two eggmen put her utility belt on the table nearby and started examining it.  
>"Such dithering with so many words just to say 'no', Quiverwing," Grizlykoff commented in a disapproving voice. "It is a waste of time."<br>One of the eggmen jumped away from her belt, trying to shake off the set of automatic teeth that had latched firmly onto his fingers.  
>"There is a whole world out there, director. It's not just F.O.W.L. and S.H.U.S.H." Quiverwing said, watching in mild amusement as another eggman struggled to get it off his co-worker. "My father always taught me never to-."<br>"That is your problem, Quiverwing. You do not follow S.H.U.S.H. procedure because you are too busy trying to be like him instead."  
>Quiverwing clenched her beak feeling absolutely desecrated. "Excuse me, Deakin, I think your boss is up there waiting for me!" She hissed. "Wouldn't be good to keep him waiting for too long now, would it?" Quiverwing added in a savage warning tone.<br>"Oh, yeah? Well so if you're in such a hurry to get going, then why don't you tell us where you keep your handcuffs?"

"Maybe coz you didn't ask me what you were looking for, bright spark!" She snapped at him. "They're in the second pocket on the left." She glanced at Grizlykoff in disdain before impatiently holding out her hands to be cuffed. 'Hurry up and get me out of here!'


	26. Ch 3 Tryst

_A/N: Happy birthday._

* * *

><p><strong>Left Wing: Part 26<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Tryst<strong>

* * *

><p>The eggmen led Quiverwing out of the lift and they proceeded in an orderly fashion down the corridor. All things considered, she realised, surveillance was a real drag. This was the part of her job she enjoyed. The physical and mental challenge was coming up. 'She jumps over the barrels of exploding rubber chickens and dodges the cloud of Amazonian fruit bats.' The gangly eggman opened the door and escorted her inside. 'After defeating the horde of giant duck eating spiders The Quiverwing Quack steps across the threshold of her nemesis' bachelor pad ready for their second battle of wits in just as many nights.'<p>

Hard rock was playing quietly in the background. Even though the music was down low the quality was crystal clear as it came out of the massive set of speakers. Quiverwing looked at the black disc spinning on the player.

_'... Heads I win, tails you lose_  
><em>Lord it's such a crime<em>  
><em>No dice honey<em>  
><em>You're the salt, you're the queen of the brine<em>  
><em>Checkmate honey<em>  
><em>You're the only one who's got to choose<em>  
><em>Where to draw the line ...'<em>

"It's a real pleasure to make your acquaintance again, doll-face. The place seemed so lifeless after you skedaddled last night."  
>"What you're suffering from is called an aftershock. I am a rather traumatic experience to have, so the cops say."<br>"I can think of another word for it, Chiquita." Steelbeak grinned at her.  
>Quiverwing glanced again at the speakers and the stereo player with a twinge of jealousy. "Maybe if you tried turning your music up a bit louder so you can hear it properly. That helps liven up people's spirits."<p>

"Aerosmith ain't everybody's taste. Besides, I wanna hear your tune, not a record I've had for forty years." He shrugged and then his eyes moved onto his henchmen behind her, "beat it, boys. She's a good guy; she ain't got much bite. Not with her friends downstairs."  
>Her escorts departed from the room and she raised an eyebrow at Steelbeak. 'Do you really think you're safe to be in a room alone with me, Steelbeak?'<p>

"Why don't you take a load off?" He hesitated, "Uh, first, would you be so kind as to show me your cuffs?" She raised her hands. "Can you, you know, jangle 'em?"  
>She pulled her hands part as far as the chain would allow. "Feeling better, Steely?"<br>"Yeah. Swell, sweet-cheeks." He smiled at her as she sat down obediently on the chair, watching him intently as he perched on the seat beside her. "Shall we try doing this like we did the last time?"  
>"I dunno, Steely." Quiverwing sighed dramatically. "I'm afraid all the thrill has gone out of our relationship."<br>"Was we having a relationship?" He chuckled as he reached slowly into his suit jacket. Quiverwing kept her eyes on his, ready in case he did something unexpected.

He pulled out a bunch of little keys. "These are the ones to your jefe's downstairs." He threw the set of little keys onto the ground near the window.  
>Quiverwing turned back to him, grabbing a bobby pin hooked onto the lining of her jacket's sleeve. "Why, Steelbeak, this is so sudden."<br>"What do you reckon; another dance? This time I choose the cocktail."

She stared at him, realisation dawning of what game Steelbeak had been playing for the last few months. "What I reckon is F.O.W.L.'s got you playing left field wasting S.H.U.S.H. time while F.O.W.L.'s real operator is hidden below the radar!"  
>Steelbeak chortled. "Hey, Chiquita, it ain't never a waste of time if you enjoy it."<br>She groaned in total mortification as she quietly undid the cuffs below his line of attention. "I am so slow on the uptake!"  
>He reached forwards and brushed his fingers along her bill. "To your credit you're the fastest snail in the race, Quiverwing." He leaned back. "Course, I'm the one who thought up the plan; I couldn't resist going another two-step with the purple menace."<br>"It all makes sense." She paused. "Except for making me sing! What was that about?"  
>"The noise maker needed time to warm up."<br>"Oh." Quiverwing closed her beak and glanced away.

"I want to take back what I said last night. You can sing, toots, just maybe not a crooner song. And you sure can quack out a rap."  
>"That is-!" Quiverwing's voice disappeared from her. "Something ... I didn't expect that."<br>"You still ain't no lady."  
>"Oh, woe is me for that was my one great aspiration in life." Quiverwing mocked and then continued in a sarcastic tone "All those etiquette classes down the drain. Tsk. I guess I'll just have to donate my pretty pink ballerina tutu to someone who actually gives a darn."<br>He chortled. "You really make my day, toots."  
>"Why, Steely, what a silver tongue you have ..." She noted softly as he leaned forwards and his metal beak brushed up against hers. "Um, Steelbeak ... I think there's something important you should know about me." She murmured to him.<br>"Yeah?"  
>Quiverwing shoved her foot against his chest and back flipped off the sofa. She somersaulted back and grabbed the keys from the floor by the window. She threw her undone cuffs at him. "I've studied under a regular Houdini for years."<p>

* * *

><p>Steelbeak staggered to a stand by the sofa, clutching his chest where she'd shoved her foot against him. "You're too late, doll-face." He pointed at her. "You're too late to jam the heist that you don't know nothing about." He reported. "By the time you get started on the right track it'll be all over, one way or another."<br>Quiverwing shrugged and held up her hands in resignation. "I can't be everywhere all the time. I can't stop every crime." She turned, looking towards the door, planning out her exit strategy. "How remarkable that your lifts are working so soon again."  
>Steelbeak chortled and Quiverwing turned back to look acidly at him. Her feet still ached from last night.<p>

"Sweetheart, don't be sore at me; you know I ain't the one who dug the hole for you."  
>Quiverwing stared at him. Of course he knew because he'd figured out what she'd needed his feathers for. But was it really a hole or just a minor setback? She still had another year of school to get through. She had been planning to go to college to learn more on forensics and psychology ... how could she do all that and take care of her duckling and do her job too? Certainly not with the insane hours she was currently working ...<p>

Steelbeak shook his head, his eyes intently reading the expression on her face. "Los buenos están locos."  
>'The "good guys" are? Really?' That snapped Quiverwing back into attention. Steelbeak wasn't a good guy who would just let her walk out of his apartment. There was never an easy way to get past his myriad of eggmen who liked to dog pile on her.<p>

"I owe you an apology, Steelbeak." The teenage crime fighter gradually crossed the space between them. She leaned in towards him, speaking quietly. "It's not because I don't trust you; it's because you're not trustworthy."  
>"That don't sound like no apology to me." He frowned at her. "Were you actually trying on that one?"<br>"Steelbeak, I only got one thing to say to you." She grabbed his jacket lapel with her left hand and yanked him forwards, kissing him as hard as she could. Then she raised her right hand and brought it down hard on the back of his neck, making him collapse against her.

She let him down to the floor. "And that's 'goodnight'."

Quiverwing turned and looked around the quiet apartment. 'Now; I've got to get out of here again.'


	27. Ch 3 Getaway

_Warning: This scene is slightly violent.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Getaway<strong>

* * *

><p>'Well, practice makes the expert.' The Quiverwing Quack minus her utility belt and bow and arrow set pulled out her spare wheel of rope and grapple from underneath her cape. 'This time I'm going to the lift via the window.' She undid the latch and walked out onto Steelbeak's balcony. The street was twenty-two storeys down and the night air was fresh. The sound of sirens echoed far off in the distance.<p>

Quiverwing hooked the grapple onto the railing and took the length of rope in her gloved hands. "Heave ho" she muttered to herself and climbed over the railing. 'Yet another important lesson from dad: Never go on a date without multiple exit strategies.'

The purple clothed crimefighter got to the next balcony down and climbed over the railing onto the platform. With a jiggle of the rope the grapple came free and she coiled her lifesaving rope back and put it away. She stepped towards the door and gently lifted the latch. The door opened and she crept inside the dimly lit apartment.

* * *

><p>Two people were busily kissing on the couch, their half filled wine glasses abandoned on the coffee table before them. Quiverwing got all the way to their front door without them noticing her.<p>

When she unlatched the door the woman shrieked. "Burglar!"  
>The purple defender of justice turned to the couple sitting on the lounge. "No, I'm The Quiverwing Quack. Don't mind me, citizens, I'm just passing through." She put her hands on her hips. "You might want to remember to lock all your doors and windows in the future. Just because you're not on the ground floor doesn't mean you're safe." She pointed back at the balcony before unlocking the front door and cautiously stepping out into the corridor.<p>

"Let's see; I got on the lift at floor five so I need to get off the lift at floor six." She pushed the button and pressed herself against the wall.

As the doors opened she listened. There was no one there so she skirted the wall and got into the lift. Quiverwing pushed level five and then six and stood with her back against the wall of the lift. The moment the lift started down she shut her eyes and groaned as the obvious dawned on her. "He's moved them. Of course Steelbeak's moved them!" She reached up and pushed for level thirteen.

The doors opened and she listened, heard nothing and jumped out, ready for a fight. No one was there. "Phew." She sighed as the lift doors closed behind her. "That was a close call. I can't believe I could be so stressed out that I would forget such a thing." Once again she pressed the button and pressed her back against the wall. It was several minutes before the doors opened again. Out popped an eggman and she web-kicked him.

He collapsed unconsciously to the ground.  
>Quiverwing heard a small electronic voice in his head gear and leaned in.<br>_"Is she there, Brine?"_  
>"No." Quiverwing said in a gruff voice into the tiny speaker. "It's just some cheap floozy going home."<br>"Hoi," she snarked at herself in a higher voice, "at least I oan't an oal 'ag loike yo mamma! I'm goona moas moi toxi."  
><em>"Alright, let her go, Brine."<em>  
>"Yes sir." She said in a gruff voice again. She straightened up and pressed the down button for the lift in relief.<p>

* * *

><p>'Ground floor. Fantastic.' Quiverwing breathed in the eggman free lobby. 'Now where shall I find the two directors?'<p>

The reception desk was in the centre of the lobby and she looked down at the cameras beside the sleeping eggman. "Excuse me" she muttered as she gently moved his arm. 'Aha, level one as I expected.' She scanned her eyes over the rest of the cameras. 'And my arrows are down the hall in a room with only one goon, oh, yes!' Quiverwing quietly cheered to herself at her luck. The guard grunted in his sleep and she gently put his arm down.

The security phone was there available for use and Quiverwing used it to dial for S.H.U.S.H. "This is The Quiverwing Quack." Quiverwing reported in a low voice so as not to wake the guard. "I need a pickup van for three people to Bird Cage Apartments in five minutes. Backup is also requ-oh, they're all out on level one priorities? Well, you'd better reassign that van onto this level one priority, buster, or we can say goodbye to both our old and new directors ... permanently!" She quacked in frustration.

The eggman at the desk woke up with a start and Quiverwing had to slam her hand down on the back of his neck before continuing her argument. He slumped back against the desk.  
>"Now, you get that van here in five minutes, agent, and you tell that driver to keep the motor running because our directors' lives depend on it!" She hung up and marched off to the fire exit stairs. "Unbelievable; it's like they're under orders to provide as little help as possible."<p>

* * *

><p>The Quiverwing Quack took the stairs up to level one, mentally preparing herself as she approached the level one door. 'One, two ...' She raised her foot and slammed open the door. There was a thunk, a squawk and she applied Quack Fu on the remaining eggmen.<p>

The remaining journey to the room where her arrow satchel was located was uneventful. Taking the door handle, she gently twisted it and let the door slip back off the latch. Then she gently pushed the door open and waited with her back against the wall beside the door. The eggman poked his head out and Quiverwing slammed her hand down across his shoulders. She stepped over his unconscious form and dragged him back into the room. "Take a nap, Louigi, you've been up all night."

There were no signs of any more tricks from Steelbeak, but just because Quiverwing couldn't see them didn't eliminate the need to stay on her toes. Her belt was on the square metal table. "Well, here goes nothing." She grabbed it and took a breath of relief when nothing happened. Quiverwing fastened it around her waist and then grabbed her satchel of arrows, not hearing any security alarms or any other warning sounds as she hooked it over her shoulder just under her cape.

No bow, she looked around.

Quiverwing bow had snapped on several occasions in the past and each time she'd shrugged it off as a minor setback but somehow this time its absence didn't sit well in her stomach.

Shoving back the anxious feeling Quiverwing stepped out of the room and moved up to the bend in the corridor. She pulled out her compact mirror for a moment to check exactly where the guards were.

Then with practiced aim Quiverwing threw her rubber ball at the wall in front of her and it bounced its way to the guards.

"Ow! Hey!"

"There it is, it's getting away!" The eggmen guarding the corridor around the corner chased after the rubber ball.

Quiverwing followed after them a moment later and quickly knocked the eggmen out. With a smile she collected her emergency distraction tool as it rolled away along the floor, remembering how her dad had once described it as her emergency destruction tool. With a pang of emptiness she realised how much she'd missed him over the last few months as she'd been away more and more on S.H.U.S.H. duties. Quiverwing opened the door and went in.

"The Quiverwing Quack! I'm glad to see you return safe and well."  
>"Director Hooter, it's so nice to see you again." Quiverwing smiled at the elder and pulled out the keys Steelbeak had given her.<br>"Why would Steelbeak give you correct keys?" Grizlykoff asked suspiciously. "Surely they will not work."  
>"I could always just pick the locks anyway, sir. He's smart; he knows that. Maybe he just doesn't want me staying too mad about the noisemaker incident? Why is this an issue? I don't care either way!" Quiverwing stated as the keys worked and she set the directors free. "Now we just need to get out of here alive." She stated so even Grizlykoff wouldn't be confused.<p>

They headed out and stepped past the litter of unconscious eggmen before heading down the stairs.  
>'I just hope the switch board operator's taken me seriously this time and come good with the pickup van.' Quiverwing felt her heart racing with the sense of urgency. "Come on!" They ran across the lobby and as she passed the opening lift doors Quiverwing twisted about, throwing a smoke arrow at the emerging eggmen before joining Grizlykoff and Hooter at the front doors. They ran down the steps to the S.H.U.S.H. van standing there and jumped into the back. "Drive!" She called out in a fit of urgency as she slammed the back door closed.<p>

The instant she turned back to the front Quiverwing saw the van was wall to wall with computers and monitors and her stomach twisted. "Did you get a call to help us?"  
>"No, ma'am. I filed a 119PB."<br>"Well, thanks, Goosetoff." Quiverwing breathed. 'At least someone knows what side they're on.'

* * *

><p>It was barely a minute later when Agent Goosetoff called back to them. "We've got a tail."<br>"No problems, this'll fix them." Quiverwing pulled out her tyre spike arrow and moved to the back door.

"No!" Before she'd even put her hand on the door handle Grizlykoff grabbed her fist. He raised her off the ground with his effort to wrench it from her. In their struggle the shaft broke with a tiny snap and Quiverwing instantly felt a sharp pang in her head and her chest. Quiverwing yanked her hand free and tumbled onto the floor in shock.

The sound of gunshots hitting the metal of the back door brought her back into focus and she looked up at her arrow in his hand, her heart pounding with the feeling of impending death. "Griz, it'll still work. Just throw the arrow under their tyres! That's the only way to stop them from-!"  
>"Not regulation de-."<br>"You-may-be-prepared-to-follow-these-stupid-regulations-to-your-death but I'm not and this-is-where-I'm-getting-off!" She quacked lividly at him and rushed to the front. "Gimme the wheel, Goosetoff!" She quacked out the order and climbed past him. "Get in the back and get ready to jump!" Once she had the driver's seat Quiverwing pulled hard on the wheel, putting the van into a two wheeled U turn and then put her foot down on the accelerator again. The F.O.W.L. car was coming up the road and Quiverwing pulled out a regular arrow. She mocked swerves until they were two hundred metres away and then she wedged the arrow against the pedal to keep it down.

Saving Director Hooter was her only job now. Quiverwing clambered into the back and grabbed him. Yanking out her grapple she pushed open the back door. "Everybody jump!" She yelled and threw the grapple at the first lamppost, grabbed hard and jumped out.

The rope and grapple changed the direction of their landing and softened the inertial trauma. It was still a hard jolt to a standstill. The sound of screeching tyres filled the next moment and the tremendous crash followed. Letting go of Hooter Quiverwing stood on the paving feeling her knees weak, watching the giant trash heap she'd just created of the van and the car.

"I'd better call for backup!" Agent Goosetoff exclaimed breathlessly as he ran back to them, scratches everywhere and he was bleeding from a cut on his forehead.  
>"This isn't a fairy tale, princess!" Quiverwing grabbed him and Director Hooter close, grabbing the edge of her cape to shield them. The petrol tanks ignited and exploded within moments of each other and shrapnel went flying. When Quiverwing lowered the edge of her cape the whole vehicular heap was up in flames.<br>"My, that was certainly close." Hooter remarked. "Thank goodness your cape is made the way it is."  
>Quiverwing looked and saw a smoking hole in her non-flammable cape exposing the durable metal latticework. "Thank my dad."<p>

"I guess there's no point arguing about calling for backup anymore." Agent Goosetoff, who'd broken his surveillance to rescue them sighed unhappily. "I wish I could do something. I feel so useless."  
>"You've been very useful, agent, you've saved us."<br>"Yes, most certainly, Agent Goosetoff." Hooter echoed Quiverwing's words of commendation.  
>Quiverwing stared at the carnage that Goosetoff was bemoaning. "Goosetoff, why don't you call the emergency crew? At least we know they'll actually come."<br>"Yes, ma'am." Goosetoff moved off to make the call.

* * *

><p>Quiverwing continued to watch the burning wreckage and out of the corner of her eye she noticed Grizlykoff approaching from the other side of the street. This was not a conversation she wanted to have.<p>

"Quiverwing, that was surveillance van you destroy just now." Director Grizlykoff's voice grumbled over her head.  
>"Obviously; since there weren't any regulation weapons in it that we could use." She was furious at how this situation had gone, heartbroken that the new S.H.U.S.H. director didn't trust her and Quiverwing could hear the bitterness in her own voice. She didn't dare look up at Grizlykoff in case she lost her emotional grounding so she just continued to watch the blaze. "I specifically requested-."<br>"This is exactly situation I ordered you to avoid."  
>"We're still alive." She gritted her beak. "That's an improvement on-."<p>

"This is not a matter to discuss here, Quiverwing. I shall see you in my office for debriefing."

"Wow. Another debriefing." Quiverwing remarked, still watching the wreck as the flames steadied and the sound of the sirens became almost deafening. "I am actually beginning to hate that word."


	28. Ch 3 Spike

_A/N: Posting but not necessarily with a critical editor's where-with-all. I'm sort of totally done with being chewed up and spat out at this moment so what you get is all I've got. One day they'll invent a machine that can translate brain waves into movies and then it'll be 'hello, easy life'._

* * *

><p><strong>A Spiky End<strong>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing followed after Goosetoff and Grizlykoff in through the front door of S.H.U.S.H. headquarters. Everybody must've been called in on the other job that Steelbeak had mentioned because the place was bustling. It added to Quiverwing's furious indignation. Apparently filing took priority over her requests for backup? 'That's it!'<p>

She stopped in the corridor of cubicles along the way to Director Grizlykoff's office. "No, let's talk about it right now." She was aware of heads turning all around them.  
>"Very well." Grizlykoff turned to her. "Your conduct tonight was not in line with proper procedure. Also you attempt dangerous situation twice."<br>"Sir, the only dangerous situation was the one we ended up with and that was because-."  
>"You do not interrupt! First you attempt to fire arrow with bystanders in proximity of your target."<br>"But sir, it wasn't dangerous, the arrow was-"  
>"Second! You are trysting with F.O.W.L. Agent Steelbeak."<br>"That? Like I had a choice about getting dragged up there?" Quiverwing quacked. "I did that to rescue you and Director Hooter!"  
>"How noble, but you already can unpick lock." He crossed his arms smugly. "You do not need key."<br>Quiverwing was sure she saw a glimmer of triumph in Grizlykoff's eyes, realising Steelbeak must had rigged cameras for Grizlykoff's viewing benefit. "He wasn't going to just let me walk out the door Scott free!"

"Third, you intentionally cause crash, endangering dozens of people on the road and destroying S.H.U.S.H. property, not to mention fact that months worth of surveillance work by agent Goosetoff's team may not be recoverable."

"Y'I know, sir!" Quiverwing gritted her beak. "They were firing on us! What ... How would you have handled that situation, sir?"  
>"I would attempt to disable their car from operation."<br>"You mean ... like with a tyre spike?"  
>"Yes, that would be an appropriate example."<br>"You mean ..." Quiverwing pulled the fated arrow that he still held from out of his hand with a grunt. "This arrow? The one that you refused to throw at their car?" She threw it onto the floor and it untangled, excitedly revealing its savage, tyre-puncturing nature. "And this is the arrow you didn't want me to use to stop Steelbeak before he did anything at the party, sir." She pulled it out from her satchel and chucked it at a particularly offensive looking filing cabinet nearby. Her arrow exploded into a sticky glump of nutty putty. She growled. 'While the cleaner's out I wonder who'll be stuck cleaning that up, but it sure as heck ain't me!'

"Don't bother firing me because I-quit!" Quiverwing quacked at him. "I have never felt so unappreciated and sorely used in my whole entire life! I swear I've gotten more common courtesy from a guy with a gun pointed at me. You barely pay me enough to replace my equipment let alone for things like laundry powder, and you certainly don't pay me enough to stand around all weekend and every night taking your abuse, Director Grizlykoff. I know you couldn't care less, but every dollar I spend to make nutty putty is a dollar I can't spend on actual food. I'm risking my life every night for you and I nearly lost it tonight all because ... somebody ... that's supposed to be on ... my ... side didn't-follow-a-simple-order-when-lives-were-hanging-in-the-balance! We're lucky we're not all dead because of ... your ... inaction!" She picked up the unravelled tyre spike and collected the emptied nutty putty canister arrow sticking out of the side of the filing cabinet. "Goodnight, Grizlykoff, I hope you sleep well knowing why this night turned out the way it did." She turned her back on him and stormed towards the exit. She managed to walk back out of the building before collapsing on the steps and bursting into tears.

On top of everything else she just realised that she'd left the ratcatcher in the underground car park.

* * *

><p>It was a few minutes as Quiverwing sat there, calming herself with the quiet task of re-rolling the tyre spike and removing the broken arrow from it. It only needed a new delivery arrow and the spike would be useful again.<p>

The familiar roar of the ratcatcher's engine filled the air and she looked up as it stopped right in front of the steps.

Darkwing Duck jumped off the bike. "Quiverwing."  
>"Oh, dad." She sobbed. "I've just lost my job."<br>"Give that to me, Q." He took the arrows. "Get in the sidecar. You'll be alright." She sobbed and got in; glad he wasn't asking her why she was suddenly crying because she wasn't sure she had an answer to give.

* * *

><p>He drove straight into the bad part of town and pulled up in front of the old biker's haunt. "You'd better hop out, hon; you've got a tracker."<br>Weakly she got out of the sidecar. She held out her arms and numbly waited for him to find the bug.  
>"There it is." He eventually tipped her satchel up onto his hand and the device skittered out.<br>"That's not the only bugger." She fell back into the sidecar. "Griz's bugging me to tears."  
>Darkwing walked a few paces away to examine a shiny Hogme Roadster nearby. "Literally." He commented. A moment later he came back and put his hand on her shoulder.<br>"Oh, dad, I've tried so hard all this time to be all proper and not talk back, even though he's as thick as nutty putty."  
>"Yeah, you have. I think you surprised the heck out of a lot of people back there by quacking out just now." He got onto the driver's seat.<p>

Darkwing stared in front of them at the row of motorbikes. "There's plenty of laundry powder at home, hon."  
>"That's your laundry powder, dad. It was okay before ..." tears filled her eyes and she broke into another sob. "What the heck's wrong with me?"<br>"It's your hormones." He started the engine. "The reason is waiting for you at home."  
>Quiverwing shut her eyes, the roar of the engine and the assurance that her father was beside her lulled her senses. "I'm so tired," she realised.<p>

It had been a very long Saturday.


	29. Ch 4 Cracked

**LEFT WING: Part 29**

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FOUR<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Cracked<strong>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn woke up four hours later. It was Sunday and she spent her day tucked up in bed with her egg and her school books.<p>

She had just gotten her term paper finished when there was a tapping on the window pane that made her look up.  
>Honker's face was looking in at her. "Gosalyn?"<br>"Honker?"  
>He climbed through the open window. "Why are you in bed?"<br>"It's warm for the egg." She replied. "Why are you coming through my window ... again? It's still daylight."  
>"It's just easier than getting through your front door these days."<p>

"Huh?" Gosalyn raised an eyebrow. "Well anyway, I am pleased to announce that I have completed my term paper."  
>"Whoa, already?"<br>"It's called 'time'." She frowned. "Of which now I have plenty of."  
>"Grizlykoff gave you parental leave? Uh, what form is that?"<br>"A 1ML." Gosalyn shook her head. "What? Griz give me maternity leave? No way! I haven't even gotten my wage cheque this month yet. I went online to order a new bow just after lunch and it rejected. Turns out my bank account had nothing to cough up. It's probably just as well; it was an impulsive buy since I should be spending that sixty bucks on baby things rather than on a bow. That is if I ever get paid! He's probably holding it back to spite me, just like he did with the bucket. Man, Honker, I really need that money."

"Gosalyn, how've you spent your last paycheque already?"  
>"Honker, it's getting on over a month ago now."<br>"But, I mean, it doesn't just disappear. What have you spent it on?"  
>"Hmm, let's see ... I pay dad twenty five every week for board. Then you and I went to the movies a couple of weeks ago. Remember, we saw Maniacs Deliver? And then I've bought new arrows and other stuff for work, and I had to fill up the ratcatcher twice. That reminds me, it's almost empty again. Remind me not to go on any long trips for a while."<br>"Ouch. How much have you got left?"  
>"I've got ten dollars left in my bank account and about an eighth of a tank of fuel in the ratcatcher."<p>

Honker mulled over this information. "Those arrows must be expensive."  
>"I go through them heaps following those eggmen around. The nets aren't cheap either when you start adding them together. I try to rescue them when I can of course. The arrows, not the crooks ... er, you know what I mean." Gosalyn paused, "Honker, where's your glasses?"<br>"In my room. I decided to try out my new contacts. I was hoping to get your opinion."  
>"Was it easier to climb the tree?"<br>"Yes, but I-."  
>"Then I think they're great."<br>He slighted a smile. "Thanks. I'm still a geek."  
>"So's my dad." She reminded him.<p>

"So what did you do wrong last night?"  
>"Well!" Gosalyn took a deep breath and started off her usual tirade of disasters that ended with: "... I can safely say S.H.U.S.H. will not be on S.C.E.S.'s Christmas card list this year."<br>"That must've been some speech he gave you."  
>"Heck no, he didn't get into half of it, I wasn't waiting around to hear everything I already knew! This time I was the one that did the shouting. Then of course I walked out without being dismissed. Thank goodness dad came; no way was I fit to drive back to the tower this morning."<p>

Honker sighed. "So you got to bed two hours earlier than you would have this morning."  
>"Yeah; I also skipped out without filing the appropriate paperwork. And I won't be going back there tonight or tomorrow night or ever again."<br>"But S.H.U.S.H. needs you, Gosalyn. Quiverwing."

"No, they don't. Honk, you don't treat someone you need like the way they've been treating me for the last five months. Did you know Justin can read now? I totally missed that because I just haven't been here. I only come home to sleep. I eat a quick breakfast because I wake up so late then I'm off to school again. This isn't living-correction that wasn't living. That was being a slave. I spent almost all the money they gave me back on the job. Everything I ever did was wrong and whenever I thought I'd done a faultless job I still got debriefed about a spelling mistake on my mission completion form and how I didn't do whatever the particular way he felt I should've done it at that moment in time. Well, I'm through with it; they can find someone else to be perfect."

"Maybe they'll enlist a robot. From all the things you've told me, I think perhaps it would be a logical option."  
>"And they can call him Hal." Gosalyn sighed. The idea of being replaced by a robot didn't make her feel any better about it. "I wish I was a robot."<br>"I'm sure Grizlykoff would still find something to complain about."  
>"Yeah, I agree, I'd probably squeak or buzz the wrong way. But at least then I could turn off my input processors and just stand there deafly ignoring him."<br>Honker took a breath. "I've said this a hundred times, Gosalyn."  
>"I know." She sighed. "I've let him get to me."<br>"You are a good crime fighter."  
>"He doesn't think that."<br>"Nobody cares what Grizlykoff thinks," Honker said steadily, "nobody except you."

Gosalyn sighed and leaned back against the wall. "None of it matters now. I've been thrown out with the garbage."

"How about we change the subject?" Honker said in a firm tone. "What do you think of Raya's new boyfriend?"  
>"I don't have enough of a clue yet, but what's with that? She's not old enough for that sort of stuff. It must be just a crush or something."<br>"She brought him home to meet your dad. Actually, she did that with her first one too. Have you met the new one yet?"  
>"No, Honker. Let's start from the top. What happened to the first one?"<br>"The way I heard it from Justin, the two of them had a fight over Raya and the new one won."  
>"A fight about a girl. What is this, the new animal kingdom? She's only in primary school for goodness sake! I'm away working for five months and the world goes crazy. And ... why are you getting gossip from a toddler?"<br>"It sure beats talking to Tank about construction." Honker shrugged.

"Besides, your dad pays me to baby-sit when he has to suddenly be out early in the evenings."  
>"Oh." Gosalyn exclaimed, feeling an uncomfortable prickling in her feathers. "Because you're doing the job I'm supposed to be doing."<br>"Well, you were out earning more than the forty bucks I get for babysitting."  
>Gosalyn choked. "... Dad ... gave you forty bucks? A whole ... forty bucks?"<br>"It's a whole evening without Tank raving about his job. I get some study done and feed Justin and Raya dinner. I wouldn't know what the going rate is but it seems reasonable to me since I'd otherwise do it for free."

"How many hours are we talking about here?"  
>"Uh, four. Sometimes if it's Friday or Saturday your mum gets delayed at the restaurant so I get a round fifty."<br>Gosalyn felt herself going red as the numbers sank in. "Honker, you really better go."  
>"Gosalyn, I haven't ..."<br>She reached her fingers for her completed assignment and dragged it forwards. She picked it up and offered it to Honker. "Can you hand this in to Mr Fieldmauser for me tomorrow?"  
>"Sure, Gosalyn." He took up her term paper and backed away to the window, climbed the sill and shut it behind him.<p>

Gosalyn picked up the nearest textbook and hurled it at the basketball hoop on her door with a scream. "Da-a-ad!"


	30. Ch 4 Desolate

**Left Wing: Part 30**

* * *

><p><strong>Desolate<strong>

* * *

><p>Her bedroom door flew open. "What happened?" Gosalyn's dad looked around the room in alarm.<p>

"Sweetie-pie, what's the matter? Oh, Gos, why are you crying?"  
>"Dad ..." She sobbed, "you pay Honker more to baby-sit Justin than S.H.U.S.H. pays me to follow Steelbeak around."<br>"What? Don't be silly, of course not."  
>"Ten bucks an hour? How much did S.H.U.S.H. pay you when you were working for them?"<br>"S.H.U.S.H. paid me on a contract basis. It wasn't regular like your cheques, so it's bound to be a bit more than yours more as a concession to cover the gap."  
>"A bit more? Hang on; didn't we always manage to find some money for food?"<br>"And your rather frequent trips to the arcade. A new bike, tennis rackets, your arrow set ..." He looked around, "where is your bow? You didn't have it last night."  
>Gosalyn wiped her eyes. "It went for a vacation. A permanent one; I should think it's not coming back."<p>

"Are you mad because I didn't pay you to baby-sit instead?"  
>"Kinda, dad."<br>"The fact is that I know you can't do it." He crossed his arms. "Since Grizlykoff took over in April your timesheets that you keep with Launchpad up at the tower have shown that you've done on average a ridiculous number of hours per week for someone studying full time at school. I know I'm biased, Gosalyn, but based on the evidence I don't think I'm being too overdramatic on the subject. It was a staggering feat of combination goose and two stepping on Launchpad's part to get you out of S.H.U.S.H. long enough to do the tables on Mother's Day, even though both your mother and I had asked you weeks in advance."  
>"Yeah, I did thank Launchpad for that."<br>He sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. "My point is that contrary to popular belief, there is in reality only one of you, Gos. From babysitting to unplugging weapons of mass destruction when you're out on S.H.U.S.H. duty I have to ask someone else to provide backup. That's just how it is."

"... Aren't you mad at me even a little bit?" Gosalyn stared at her desk across the room.  
>"You can only be in one place at any one time." He repeated. "Don't get me wrong; I don't approve of the number of hours you've been working. But you're not the one to blame for that. I'd say our suspect is a large, brown, bear with a Russian accent." He squeezed her shoulder.<br>Gosalyn sobbed at his humour. "You hardly ever yell at me lately."  
>"Alright, hang on; you're upset because I don't yell at you?"<p>

"Grizlykoff made me mop because I wasn't there last week."  
>"Didn't you explain the reason why to him, sweetie?"<br>"I can't open my beak. He outranks me."  
>"Rank, schmank." Drake dismissed in his usual manner for facts that no one but he found trivial. "You certainly brought him down a few pegs yesterday. That's a good start to fixing this problem."<br>"No, I'd say it was a good end, dad. I'm never going back there again." She buried her face in her hands, her face hot and her feather's damp and uncomfortable from having shed so many salty tears.

"I know I've said that a few times about S.H.U.S.H." He mused as he pulled her into a hug. "But, honey, I've just finished telling your little sister this. You've got a better chance of getting what you want if you ask for it. It's not as if you're fighting a super villain who's hell bent on your destruction. All you need to do is talk it out and you'll see it get better."  
>"I wish it were that easy for me." Gosalyn sighed. "I'm not so eloquent as you are with words, dad."<br>"But you're very good at demonstrating as your past boyfriends have discovered. Stick to your strengths, champ."  
>"Thanks, dad." Gosalyn sighed.<p>

"Gosalyn, when I came in here the thing that had you so upset was money. You're working thirty five hours-."  
>"I ... was ... working, dad. I quit, remember?" She corrected.<br>"Oh, very well, how much ... were ... you getting paid for your thirty five hours?"  
>"I ..." She couldn't say it. It felt every bit like she'd been betrayed and it hurt far too much to say it.<p>

Instead she opened up her exercise book and ripped out the back page. Gosalyn wrote out her bank details and her login password. "Could you please check this for me, dad, and see if my pay's come in yet? It should've come in last Tuesday but it still hadn't this morning and Launchpad hasn't come around with a cheque. I don't want to look anymore. In fact, you can keep the account."

"Oh, Gosalyn." He cooed softly and gave her another hug. "Can I get you a cup of your mother's herbal tea, Gos? You know if it works on me it'll work on anyone. I think you could use it right now."  
>"Sure, dad." Gosalyn croaked tearfully. "That'd be great, thanks."<p>

He went out through the door. Gosalyn collected her textbook from the floor and put all her books in a stack on her desk. She returned to bed and drew her egg close to her like some strange sort of comforting thing.

* * *

><p>Her father reappeared a few minutes later. "Here you are, sweetheart." He sat down next to her on the bed and handed her the warm drink. "You're doing a good job with Junior. I'm proud of you."<br>Gosalyn felt herself blush. "You're a great granddad. You know, people are going to start looking at you like you're really old."  
>"The fact is that I'm not." He shrugged. "Besides, I've already been there and done that."<p>

Gosalyn sipped her drink, her vision gravitating to her egg in her lap. "This guy skipped out the quickest yet."  
>"I promise, Gos; you don't have Teflon feathers. There is a boy out there who'll stick around; I'm utterly convinced. I know I'm just your dad, but why not try to get through school first before you get serious about all that?"<p>

'Oh, really? You can tell me that?' Gosalyn thought incredulously, her mind turning to her sister. "Talking about boyfriends, why are you letting Raya date this boy? If I'm too young then she's wa-ay too young! How old is he? Have you explained to Raya about indecent advances?" Gosalyn narrowed her eyes as her father flushed pink beneath his facial feathers, "have you taught her how to block?"

"Oo, ho shee-yah." He looked away from her to the window. "You should probably lock that after Honker leaves. I know it's a token gesture against super villains, but hey, let's not help the average common garden burglar, huh?" He got up, crossed the room and then redid the latch on the window.

He came back and took her empty mug from her. "Get some sleep, kiddo. Your parents are here to back you up and we're not going anywhere in a very long while. We'll get through this together."  
>Gosalyn carefully settled herself under her covers with her egg. "Can you be so sure that you're not going anywhere, dad? You do some pretty dangerous things some nights."<br>"Yet few of them are half as dangerous as I am myself. Get a proper sleep, sweetie. I'm talking the full eight hour stretch this time. Not these little catnaps you keep having."  
>She yawned and shut her eyes. "I'll have a go at it, dad."<br>"I love you, kiddo."  
>She let the endearment wash over her and smiled. His reassuring voice always made her feel safe and confident. "I love you too, dad."<p> 


	31. Ch 4 Rain

**Rain**

* * *

><p>Gosalyn woke up on late Monday morning to rain. She got up and crossed her room, pulling back the blind. It was a dull day outside with a thick mass of grey white clouds obscuring the sun. She stood there for a moment looking out before coming to the realisation that she was starving and she needed to do something to fix it. She picked up her egg in its bundle of blankets and carried it downstairs. "Come along with mummy, baby."<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn heard TV noise and looked into the lounge room before going to the kitchen.<p>

"Good morning, Justin. What's this one you're watching?"  
>"If I tell you will you promise not to turn it off?"<br>Gosalyn straightened to attention, "that is not something I want to hear!" At a glance she knew what it was. 'Attack of the Clowns'. She charged into the lounge room and stood in front of the TV and reprimanded him as he sat on the floor rug. "Justin, this one will give you nightmares too!"

"I like nightmares!" Justin yelled back at her, making her realise that she'd also raised her voice. "You're mean, Q. Is that what Mr. Grizlykoff taught you to be; mean? I'm Justin Mallard. You can't treat me like I'm other kids. I don't fit into that category; I'm different. I do my own thing and it works for me."  
>"Okay, someone's been feeding you lines. Did dad help you with that one?"<br>"No." He sat down on the chair. "I talked to Honker. He knows all about these sorts of things."  
>"Honker's been talking to you?" Gosalyn's mind overloaded and she had to leave the room.<p>

Gosalyn gazed into the fridge, staring at the milk carton as she held her egg bundle with her other arm. "I've been reprimanded by my best friend via someone scarcely more than a tenth my age." She slammed the door and went back into the lounge room. "Okay, so I'm wrong!" She quacked. "That doesn't tell me how to fix it and make it right. All I want to do is keep you safe, Justin."

Justin slid off the chair. "It's just a movie, Q." He pushed the button and turned off the TV. "It turns off, see? It ends. It goes away in its box and back onto the shelf. And if you think Attack of the Clowns is scary, then you really shouldn't watch The Crucible. It wasn't a nice movie and it took Dad ages to explain the bad things to me."  
>Gosalyn looked over at the shelf of movies. Most of them were hers and that meant most of them were horror movies. Except the Crucible; she'd been studying that one for school. "Justin, has dad been through all our movies with you like this?"<br>"Yes."

Gosalyn was mortified. "I'm sorry." She apologised in a hushed voice. "I should've asked that first. That was very stupid of me."  
>"Uncle Launchpad says 'you should never jump to conclusions because one day it could be your conclusion'. You must've learnt that one from Mr. Grizlykoff as well, Q."<br>"Yikes!" Gosalyn clutched her egg, knowing how true that was. "I'd better unlearn that one and fast!" She blinked down at Justin. "Have you got any more words of wisdom I need to learn, kiddo?"  
>"Hmm," he turned the TV back on and sat down quietly on the chair.<p>

"Perhaps you should go away and learn those few things first."  
>"Master Jettison in Get Quacking said that."<br>Justin smiled up at her and nodded. He picked up the remote. "Now, excuse me, I want to see the red nose scene from beginning to end and you should eat your breakfast before it becomes lunch."  
>Gosalyn turned away from him "and I pray to relearn never to jump to a conclusion ever again."<p>

She stepped back into the kitchen. "Didn't I say it? I know it! Everyone deserves the benefit of a doubt. I can't believe I was acting like those Crucible people." She stole the milk from the fridge then she reached up into the cupboard. "Look at me, I'm Darkwarrior Quack. Boy, I need to do some serious damage control on my brain." She struggled to get the top of the cereal box closed again with her one free hand. "This'd be a lot easier if I'd had the money to buy the egg satchel. But oh, no, Grizlykoff won't even give me my pittance. Seven years I've worked for Director Hooter. He never took my life away."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn unfolded Monday's slightly damp newspaper as she sat down at the table. With her egg in her lap she looked intently in the classifieds section as she ate her cereal.<br>By the time she'd finished her cereal, she'd moved on to the comic section. "There's only one thing for it: I've got to make my own job."

She flicked back through the newspaper but instead of thinking forward to what job she could invent for herself, she found herself going back to Saturday night. She recalled the horrendous crash as the cars had hit. The vision of the twisted burning wreckage she'd created in order to get Hooter out of harms way.

It wasn't just embedded in her brain now; it was on the forth page of the newspaper.

**SHUSH, Even When Trouble Hits.**

'Hmm, Saturday night's disaster spurs journalistic guffaws over the Super Heroes' Underground Secret Headquarters' downward spiral into bureaucratic impotence and how it is seemingly apparent to all but those working there.' She captioned the article.

Gosalyn's mind fell to F.O.W.L. and the story neither S.H.U.S.H. or the media knew. 'What doesn't sit right is how easy it was to get Hooter and Griz out of Steelbeak's grasp. What game could Steelbeak possibly be playing at?' She wondered. 'Hooter's retired, not a threat to F.O.W.L. anymore. Grizlykoff steps up to take the wheel. He's about the same age as Steelbeak but as thick as a two bri-' "holey bricks! Steelbeak's playing politics!" She put down the spoon into her empty bowl and read the article again in a new light.

"Calm down. It's not Steelbeak's fault I got fired. Griz was the one that frog-marched me down the gang plank and all he did was save me from the sinking ship. Steelbeak's just the iceberg." Gosalyn stared into her empty bowl. "I'm not going to sink anymore."

* * *

><p>There was a peal of laughter from the other room from Justin, breaking into her thoughts.<br>"I need a new job, and I think I'd fit in the clown category. I've had five months of experience training to be an idiot." She snorted. "I could be a news reporter only I'm sick of chasing people down for information." She eyed the newspaper in displeasure. "Also, the temptation to do something evil is terribly high in that job. I'll have to think more on this. First though, I'd better get this crime fighter a can of WD40 because I refuse to be called after my worst enemy. I don't care what dad says this time; I'm definitely not sleeping on it."


	32. Ch 4 Sleep

**LEFT WING: Part 32**

* * *

><p><strong>Sleep On It<strong>

* * *

><p>Now Gosalyn had thought of it, the tune was stuck in her head and she was humming. As she was putting her breakfast things away in the dishwasher Gosalyn started thinking about making a list of de-Grizlykoff-ying things for herself. It struck her that music was one thing she didn't associate him with.<p>

Between work and school it had been ages since she'd last had the free time to practice and the idea sounded like therapy to her right now. Gosalyn continued humming the tune that had caught in her mind as she went upstairs to fetch her instrument.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn closed the internal door to the garage. The small stage her dad and Launchpad had built years ago was nose to nose with the old blue station wagon, but it was still there and apart from a sack of dry Gnome biscuits standing slouched in a corner it was vacant for possession and she stepped up onto it. She glanced back at the wall that shared with the house, remembering that the garage was magically soundproofed so she could be as loud as she liked without disturbing anyone.<p>

"Now, baby, this is a job traditionally done standing up so with me sitting with you it won't sound quite as..." Gosalyn frowned at her askew thoughts, realising this was the first time her egg was being exposed to music. "I mean, it'll sound better after you've hatched." She put her saxophone case beside the stack of giant throw pillows and arranged them to sit on with her spare hand. Then she sat down with her legs curled up under her and tucked her egg carefully out of the way beneath her. "Now I have two hands, hoorah!"

Gosalyn opened the case, pulling out her cherished saxophone. "Hello, Daisy, my old friend." She gazed at her shiny golden instrument as songs and melodious memories stirred in her mind. "I'm sorry I've been neglecting you. I might be a little out of practice so let's get practicing. When dad says, 'variety can save your life', Launchpad always adds, 'yeah, and your sanity'. So here we go."

She put the reed to her mouth, imagining the words as she played backup, wishing Grizlykoff out of her head.

_'The afternoon just slips away_  
><em>Coz' it's the end of another day<em>  
><em>And as the sky turns from blue to black<em>  
><em>Time again for the image is back<em>

_So I don't know what's right_  
><em>Screaming at you in the middle of the night<em>  
><em>Can you help me please...?<em>  
><em>Can ya help?<em>

_Don't ... you sleep on it_  
><em>The walls ... are closin' in<em>  
><em>This time you feel it, you know it's not right<em>  
><em>Now I know<em>

_Far away from reality_  
><em>It's a lock that holds no key<em>  
><em>Strangest dream I ever had<em>  
><em>Wake up call never seemed so bad<em>

_So I don't know what's right_  
><em>Screaming at you in the middle of the night<em>  
><em>Can you help me please...?<em>  
><em>Can ya help?<em>

_Don't ... you sleep on it_  
><em>The walls ... are closin' in<em>  
><em>This time you feel it, you know it's not right<em>  
><em>Now I know<em>

_Don't know what's come over me_  
><em>Some say that its destiny...<em>

_So I don't know what's right_  
><em>Screaming at you in the middle of the night<em>  
><em>Can you help me please...?<em>  
><em>Can ya help?<em>

_Don't you sleep on it_  
><em>The walls are closin' in<em>  
><em>This time you feel it, you know it's not right<em>  
><em>Now I know.'<em>

Gosalyn rested the end of her saxophone on the pillows. "Oh, I feel better. I'll make sure to do this practice more often from now on."

"Yes, judging by the look on your face."  
>Gosalyn opened her eyes to her mother's voice and saw that Morgana was standing there at the door to the garage. "Hi, mum. I'm sorry; I thought the garage was sound proofed."<br>"It is, of course it still is. But honey, you're sending off a lot more than just sound." Her mother gestured in the air. "Music is another form of magic after all, and the vibrations are all over."

Her mother came toward her. There was barely enough room for her to squeeze through the gap between the front of the car and the stage. "Is it just me or is your father cutting things a little fine these days?" Morgana sat down beside her on the edge of the stage.  
>"No," Gosalyn stared at the narrow gap, remembering his last moment rescue of her at the fireworks factory. "It's not just you, mum."<p>

"Where's your egg?"  
>Gosalyn frowned at her mother's increasingly concerned look. "I'm sitting on it. It's fine."<br>"Oh. I'm sorry to ask but I had to wonder a little bit because I knew you had it but-."  
>"You couldn't see where I put it so you thought you'd better ask before you started to worry. Chill, mum. I can read your face; I know you didn't mean anything." Gosalyn watched her mother nodding in relief that Gosalyn understood and wasn't upset at her. "You asked the question so you didn't go jumping to a conclusion."<br>"Yes, in fact. That's exactly it." Her mother pulled up a spare pillow and sat sideways on the edge of the stage so she was facing Gosalyn. "Gosalyn, dear, you aren't one to frighten easily. Whatever is the matter?"

Gosalyn gulped. Her mum had a freaky pickup on how her kids were feeling. "I'm scared, mum. I don't want to be Darkwarrior Quack; I want to be Gosalyn Mallard again."  
>"Then Be Gosalyn Mallard, honey. Look in the mirror and change yourself back. Your father does it all the time. It works ... like magic." Morgana said in a humorous voice. "He makes an affirmative statement to himself. He sees how he wants to be and acts that way unconditionally."<br>"That still sounds like he could be Darkwarrior."  
>"They are all ideas. The idea of Gosalyn Mallard is brought to life again because you believe she exists. You know how she acts, you know what she likes. All you have to do is look in the mirror and commit unconditionally to being her again." Morgana squeezed Gosalyn's shoulder warmly. "And then, once you've got yourself sorted, you can mend Quiverwing and let her fly again."<br>"Thanks, mum."

"Oh, that's alright. I'll leave you to practise some more; I think you're onto a good thing ... Hum, now I have to try and get past this car again." Morgana raised her hand and did a levitation spell, lowering the car closer to the closed roller door with a gentle bump. "That's better. The last time your father drove it, he must have been thinking a bit harder than usual."  
>"About what?"<br>"Oh, well, it was probably Raya's new boy."  
>"Everybody keeps talking about him!" Gosalyn complained. "I haven't even met him yet."<br>"Well, I've only seen him fleetingly myself. But your father knows more."  
>"Yeah, I grilled him and he clammed up good and tight about it."<br>"Now, why would you want to grill your father for?" Morgana disapproved.  
>Gosalyn frowned and looked away, acknowledging her mistake and wondered where it had come from. 'Why indeed?'<p>

"Because ... he's all soft on Raya." Gosalyn finally found her answer.  
>"He's soft on all of you, honey. Anything you want, you've got it. He tries desperately hard to put a reasonability limit on it. You wouldn't believe the plan he made to discourage Raya from her first boyfriend. The lengths he goes to for you children ... Well, one could never question his dedication." Morgana smiled wistfully and her eyes glazed over.<br>Gosalyn looked away from the mushy look on her mother's face, feeling a blush. "Um, why, mum? What did dad think was wrong ... or 'unreasonable' with the first one?"

Morgana took a long breath and looked steadily at Gosalyn. "I have come to the conclusion that I have absolutely no idea."

Gosalyn felt the keen nibble of her sense of adventure and her brain started ticking over. "Now, that sounds like a mystery I'd like to solve."  
>"Suit yourself, sweetie. But please don't get carried away. It is a stale case, after all."<br>"I won't, mum. I just need something to save me from boredom and this sounds king for the job."  
>Morgana nodded with a smile. "Well, if you do happen to find out, I would love you to 'let me in' on what the fuss was all about. I love your father but sometimes the inner workings of his brain have me perfectly flummoxed." Morgana headed back to the garage door. "Enjoy your music, darling."<br>"Thanks, mum."

As the door shut Gosalyn smiled and drew the reed back up to her beak, feeling in a happier place as she pondered over her and Raya's father.

_'Close your eyes, little girl blue_  
><em>Inside of you lies a rainbow <em>  
><em>Yellow, blue, red, blue, purple too, <em>  
><em>Blue, purple and green, <em>  
><em>Then the yellow.<em>

_'Rest your head, little girl blue, _  
><em>Come paint your dreams on your pillow. <em>  
><em>I'll be near to chase away fear, <em>  
><em>So sleep now and dream 'til tomorrow, <em>  
><em>I'll be near to chase away fear, <em>  
><em>So sleep now and dream 'til tomorrow.'<em>

* * *

><p><em>AN: Credits where due:_

_The Living End - Sleep On It _  
><em>Disney - Little Girl Blue<em>  
><em>Joey the Ripper - What Gosalyn's first instrument was and who urged her to learn form part of the groundwork on this aspect of my 17 year old version of Gosalyn. How much do I love this idea? Heaps! You are awesome! P.S. I would love you to finish that story one day.<em>


	33. Ch 4 Square

_A/N: If you missed chapter three with Grizlykoff it's not too late to go back and skim over parts 21-28. It will be difficult to figure out Drake and Gosalyn's conversation in this scene without knowing that stuff._

* * *

><p><strong>LEFT WING: Part 33<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Fair and Square<strong>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn came in from the garage feeling much more relaxed.<p>

As she went to fetch a glass of milk from the kitchen, she found her father sitting down at the kitchen table, reading the paper. "Hi, dad, did I wake you too?" She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and sat it on the table.  
>"Gosalyn, you've done something wrong."<br>"I'd like to know how I could've done it right. Griz wouldn't budge and I was backed into a corner." She got the milk from the fridge and put it on the table.  
>"You certainly drew the short straw." He agreed. "That was a good outcome for the situation you were facing given the lack of time you had to make a new plan. I'm glad you were fast enough on your feet so you could be here talking to me."<p>

Gosalyn sat down at the table opposite him, putting her egg in her lap and now she had two hands she poured herself a drink. "What is it and how can I fix it for next time?"  
>Drake frowned. "The next time you get paid, I want you to run it by me."<br>"Paid?"  
>"If the hours change, if the job changes, I want you to check your cheques in with me again. It's one thing to go out there on voluntary community service with Launchpad and me, but frankly it's quite another to be stuck in that rotten place with Grizlykoff breathing down your neck!" He fumed.<p>

Gosalyn felt tears in her eyes. "Okay, dad."  
>"It doesn't take an experienced detective to see that that overstuffed bully's gotten to you." He handed her a tissue. "I'm sorry I can't put this lightly, but I feel too strongly for my little girl. You're not just missing a proper wage rate for the job, you need a premium on your pay to cover the damages to your psyche. It's gonna be a job for all the kings and horses of St. Canard to put you back together again."<p>

"Give me some time." Gosalyn clenched the tissue. "I'll get over it."

* * *

><p>Her father sighed from his chair beside her. "You get it, right, Gos? Grizlykoff isn't anything like Hooter. Right?"<br>"He's nothing to compare!" Gosalyn answered, shocked at the sacrilegious idea.  
>"If your roles were reversed and you were the director, what would you do about Grizlykoff's actions last night?"<br>Gosalyn grimaced. "I wouldn't make a good director, dad."  
>"How would you act if you had the power to?"<br>"The longer that guy is in control of a dangerous situation the more people that die." Gosalyn growled angrily. "If I was the director, I'd feed him to the pet Zurglot I would keep under my desk. I'd save a hundred civilians doing it in the short term, any number of them into the future."

"Then I've only got one question left." Drake announced quietly.

"Yeah, I know. It came to my attention this morning." Gosalyn rubbed her forehead. "I've got Darkwarrior Quack up here. I'm trying to get rid of her."  
>"No, the question I have is: 'why did you leave him in control for so long, Gos?' If Darkwarrior Quack's the only one that can stand up to him, then maybe that's who you need to be to get this problem straightened out in your head."<p>

"Dad ..." Gosalyn hesitated nervously. "Darkwarrior Quack's a bad guy. She just fed your scenario bear to a Zurglot."

"The Quiverwing Quack is up against the wall, backed up in the corner." He detailed quiet and darkly, his eyes fixed darkly on hers. "She can't use her ammo. What is she going to do to get herself out of this?"  
>Gosalyn swallowed and looked away from him. "This is different, dad. Grizlykoff isn't a bad guy."<br>Drake stood up. "Yes he is." He countered stiffly.  
>"Dad!" Gosalyn whispered, "how can you say that?"<br>"Because he made Darkwarrior Quack possible! The proof is sitting right in this very room!" He gritted. "You've got something in common with the Fearsome now, Q. Megavolt, Bushroot, Liquidator and now ... Darkwarrior Quack." He turned about and stepped out of the room. She heard him going up the stairs.

"Dad ..." Gosalyn stared after him in shock.

"... You live with your mistakes ..." She sighed sadly and looked down at the paper.

* * *

><p>"All I'm missing is a Zurglot."<p>

"Then go find it, Gosalyn."

She jumped, instinctively grabbing for her egg in her lap. Her father was standing in the doorway.

"Geez, dad, you're good at that. I thought you'd gone upstairs."  
>He grinned. "I know. If you're going to get the job done and right, you need the right tools for it. Get your Zurglot, kid."<br>"Geez, dad, you're beginning to sound like Negaduck."She admonished. "I think I should stop listening to you if you're going to start teaching me to be a bad guy."  
>"Gosalyn, with everything I've ever taught you, it's always been your choice of which side you apply it." He frowned. "Life isn't easy and good and bad is a value judgement every single time you get into a fight. Every time you choose which arrow you're going with, you make a choice between good and bad."<p>

Gosalyn crossed her arms. "I can't shoot Grizlykoff with an arrow, despite what good I think it'll make on the world."  
>"And you can't kick the ball past him either. You've got to come out of your world, Q. Learn his rules, play his game, and beat him at it." Drake grinned at her. "Fair and square."<br>Gosalyn smiled. "Fair and square? I kinda like the sound of that."  
>"That's my little girl!" He moved into the room and kissed her on the forehead. "Stay mad and get even. Let no bad guy stay unchallenged."<p>

Her father yawned. "I'll see you in a couple hours."  
>"Wait, dad, just quickly?" Gosalyn grabbed the chance to ask. "Do you remember the last time you took the car out?"<br>"Yeah ... It was last week. Why?"  
>"What were you thinking about when you were driving home?"<br>"Gosalyn, I came home. What's the issue?"  
>"Was it about Raya's boyfriend?"<br>"Yeah, it was late and I had to drive him home. And I couldn't feel like a worse person on earth!" Drake rubbed his head. "What a nightmare his parents had had that evening worrying about him. They had no idea where he was and whether he was safe."  
>"Couldn't he call them using our land-line?"<br>"They don't have a phone to answer the call." He explained. "It was hours before I got a break in work and had the chance to take him home."

Drake sighed as he headed for the door again. "These things happen when Raya gets scared."

Gosalyn sat there at the kitchen table, looking at her glass at this odd piece of information. 'What kind of people don't believe in having a telephone?'


	34. Ch 4 Live

**Live and Let Die**

* * *

><p><em>(Tuesday through to Saturday)<em>

Gosalyn spent the wet week listening to her stereo and recovering her strength. Honker didn't come around. But then, it was too wet to go climbing trees and he was busy studying while she was busy slacking off.

Gosalyn joined her mother at the restaurant, letting her take her mind off Grizlykoff for a few hours. But then she'd come home and her thoughts went back to S.H.U.S.H. and the scene with Grizlykoff staring her down.

The fight with Grizlykoff that she'd stood down played over again in her mind, she, wondering why she hadn't been able to win against him, and she, thinking on the thousand ways her life had gone wrong since the minute he'd started giving her orders.

* * *

><p>By the end of the week the rain had eased up and then finally with Saturday came the official term holidays. To Gosalyn, that meant Honker was once again reachable at any moment, as she doubted very much he'd join his dad in one of his campervan trips now that he could use his age to dodge it.<p>

But the school holidays also meant that Gosalyn had an extra sibling to remember to check on. Raya of course could look after herself, but despite her eight years as a student of the science of deductive reasoning what went on between Raya and Justin left Gosalyn wondering sometimes. One thing that Gosalyn knew as she tried to read up on her transfiguration formulas on the lounge was that in any situation, it was always Raya's voice and Justin's feet she'd hear.

Justin sat down on the chair next to her feet.  
>"Are you fighting again?" Gosalyn watched her little brother sitting with his hands in his lap.<br>"No, I just don't want to play anymore for a bit."  
>"Now, are you playing or are you actually fighting? She does seem to be yelling quite a lot at you."<br>"That's her thing." He replied. "Raya doesn't want to run around. It's just that I get bored of stories." He looked at the egg in Gosalyn's lap. "When's it going to hatch? It's taking an awfully long time getting ready."  
>"Well, I should think, if that was a Tuesday and I've had one Tuesday since, I'm putting it around the following Tuesday."<br>"Not this Tuesday but next Tuesday?" He narrowed an eye. "Is that three weeks all up, Q?"  
>"Yes, that's very good, Justin. Three weeks."<br>Justin huffed, "That's slo-ow! Baby, hurry up, your Uncle Justin wants to play with yo-ou." He sat back and crossed his arms impatiently.  
>"I'm afraid baby won't be quite ready to run around as soon as baby hatches." Gosalyn reached forwards and ruffled his head feathers. But, you know, you've got another older sister. Can't I play with you too?"<br>"Hmm. I'm not sure if you remember how to play, Q. You're like what happened to Peter Pan when he grew up."  
>"Hey, if I've forgotten, you can teach me again, huh?"<br>Justin smiled. "Cool."  
>"So ..." Gosalyn put on a game voice, "wanna arm wrestle?"<br>"You're on." Justin grinned back at her, and then there was a knock on the front door.  
>Gosalyn looked to the archway that blocked off the entrance. "Uh, sorry, Justin, I have to get that. You want to sit with baby for a moment?"<br>"Okay, Q!"  
>"Okay, you sit here." She stood up and let Justin sit in her spot, handing him the bundled up egg and getting him to hold it close to him. "Be gentle, keep it warm. There."<p>

Gosalyn ran to the front door as it knocked again.

* * *

><p>She opened it and took a step back.<p>

Gosalyn blinked, registering properly the fact that there was indeed a medium sized glob of yellow goop with waving tentacles standing on the doorstep. She looked down at it, feeling an inkling of familiarity on this hip high mound of yellow and it wasn't the good sort. Two giant saucer shaped eyes blinked up at her.

"Hello? And do you have a return postal address?" She asked bluntly. 'Now, why does this creature look familiar? No, it doesn't look as friendly as cousin Globby.' The shape of it was more like a cylinder with a round top.

"Excuse me, please, is Raya here? Can I speak to her?" The boyish voice came up to her ears, and now Gosalyn remembered an altercation she'd had with one of these a couple years ago in Amelia Bellum's office. That blob, of course, was a ... lot ... bigger, and he had a much gruffer voice.  
>"Wait, kid, was that 'speak to' or 'eat'?"<p>

"Gos-a-lyn, don't be me-an!"

Raya grabbed at her hand from behind and pulled. "You're worse than daddy." Her little sister lectured her.  
>"I thought it was a valid question." Gosalyn muttered and stepped obediently away from the door. 'Pick your evils, Q, dad, or Grizlykoff? And the winner goes to-.'<br>"Hello, Ian." Raya stepped to the door and looked at the medium sized glob standing there, glistening gelatinously in the sunlight.

'Ian?' Gosalyn scoffed silently to herself. 'You're a gigantic yellow blob that goes around trashing the coroner's office and you-name-your-son-'Ian'! What kind of a monster are you?'

"I don't want to hurt your feelings, Ian. You're a really nice person, but ..." Raya paused. "But see, I'm not a big strong person and sometimes, well, I can't choose both of you, so I have to choose what I need for me." She started crying. "You're such a nice person, Ian, but I rea-I don't think you can protect me. And not ..." She gulped. "There are monsters out there, Ian." Raya said to the mound of sentient goo. "They want to get me and I need someone big and strong and mean and tough and that's exactly the person that scared you away."

"My mummy says he'd scare anybody and I shouldn't be embarrassed."  
>"That's right, Ian, he'd scare an-y-bod-y." Raya sobbed. "And you should be scared and not embarrassed about running away. Be very very glad you did run away." She sniffed. "Because he meant every bit of it ... and you were standing in his way!"<br>"Erk!" Ian backed off from the doorframe. "He's crazy like my dad!"  
>Raya nodded. "He's crazy like my daddy too."<p>

She sighed. "If I was a big strong person, I'd choose you, Ian. But I'm not, so I have to choose him." She took a step out the door and kissed the blob. "You're a nice person, Ian, and I want you to remember that. Because you'll make some girl really happy. But it just can't be me."  
>"Okay, Raya." Ian replied sadly, tears trickling out of his gigantic saucer shaped eyes. "Now I wish you were a big strong person." He turned around and globbered down the steps. Raya watched him leave down the garden path and slowly closed the door after him.<p>

Raya turned, looking up at Gosalyn. There was perfect misery on her face and she was about to explode with it. "Oh, Gosalyn!"

Gosalyn bent down and picked her little sister up, holding her in her arms and rocking gently as Raya cried.


	35. Ch 4 Ashes

**Ashes**

* * *

><p>Gosalyn sat on the sofa with Raya in her arms and rubbed her back as she cried. Justin occupied himself by reading her spell book on the chair beside her, his arms dutifully wrapped around her egg.<p>

Gosalyn looked down at the silky black locks of her sister. They'd been sitting like this for a while now and the torrent of tears had subsided to occasional sobs.  
>"Raya, sweetie," she cooed gently, "how about some juice, huh?"<br>"Yeah." Raya croaked hoarsely, "that'd be nice."  
>"Okay." Gosalyn stood up and carried her little sister over into the kitchen.<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn put her down in a chair at the breakfast table and poured her a drink from Raya's canister in the fridge. She handed down the glass and watched Raya gulp it thirstily down.<br>Raya licked her beak and heaved a sigh, holding up the empty glass to Gosalyn. "Thank you, sis."

"So." Gosalyn took the glass and rinsed it in the sink. "This boy you have chosen. Has he got a name?"  
>"Simon."<br>"Geez, these parents," Gosalyn scoffed in disgust as she tucked the glass in the dishwasher, "that's about as scary as naming your kid 'Raya'. Ooh, really gonna put the creeps up on ye olde fellow scrummers."  
>"He-ey!" Raya objected. "I don't know what that means but I like my name!"<br>Gosalyn occasionally forgot that Raya had buried her sense of humour a long time ago. "I just meant your name isn't very scary, Ray."  
>"And ...?" Raya pursed her beak, waiting.<br>"..." Gosalyn blushed. Her sister's severity was even worse than her zero-humour. "I guess I put my foot in my beak on that one; I'm sorry."

Raya nodded in solemn acceptance and Gosalyn breathed in relief at the reprieve.

"So what's this Simon like?"  
>"Well. He's big and strong and-."<br>"I don't know what that 'means', Raya." Gosalyn interrupted in mild frustration. "You could say the exact same things about me when I'm working, right?"  
>"I suppose so."<br>"So how would you describe me right now?"  
>"...Sassy."<br>"Gee, thanks." Gosalyn rolled her eyes. "Do go on."  
>"See? You're doing it again." Raya pointed out.<br>"Alright! Let's deal with your issues right now, Raya. I'll get on with mine later. Okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn took a breath. "So what's your number one drama, Ray?"<p>

The six-year-old consulted her lengthy mental list of grievances. "I want to know why everyone was so horrible to Ian. I mean, you and daddy ..." Raya took a breath, "I mean ... I guess daddy wasn't really horrible to Ian, but he ... I mean he did that thing he does ... you know what I mean."  
>Gosalyn interpreted her own feelings, knowing their dad had felt the same way. "It's about trust, Raya. We have to be careful becau-."<br>"But daddy isn't like that with Simon and ... and he hardly knows him any better than Ian."  
>"Ah. Well, dad probably thinks he's got him sussed already." Gosalyn shrugged.<br>"I guess maybe you're right, Q ..." Raya mused, "but ..." Raya took a dramatic breath, "daddy threw away his notebook!"

Gosalyn had no idea about the events leading up to it, but the visual image of their dad chucking a whole notebook in the bin just to prove a point did seem like a pretty extreme action on his part. "If dad kept a notebook for each of my boyfriends I wouldn't be surprised becau-."  
>"All the boys that like you have 'slightly shifty characters with hidden agendas'." Raya shook her head in disapproval.<p>

"Thanks for the moral support." Gosalyn retorted sarcastically. "Now can we please return to you and ... your ... boyfriend problems, please?"  
>"If you had looked at Ian's aura and compared it to one of the boys that comes to visit you that ... we ... have to be nice to-."<br>"Excuse me?" Gosalyn gaped at Raya. "I've never once said you had to be nice to 'my' dates! Geez!" Gosalyn sat back appalled at any guy who'd let a mouthy six-year-old scare him off. 'In fact, good riddance.'  
>Raya looked away, "so you don't mind really that I got cross when-?"<br>"I promise, Raya, I ... wa-ait a minute." Gosalyn frowned right back at Raya in realisation, eyeing her little sister in suspicion. "Are you telling me ... that you're cranky at me for being 'mean' to Ian at the door when you've done the exact same thing?" She crossed her arms at her little sister's guilty expression. "That's the pot calling the kettle black, Raya."  
>"It's a completely different situation!" Raya's face was going quite florid. "I'm fed up with all your boyfriends! Them and their ... ulterior-motives!"<br>"Raya ..." Gosalyn took a breath, about to remind Raya that she hadn't had a boyfriend in months.  
>"They're not good for you, Gosalyn! Someone has to look after you!"<br>Gosalyn stopped, realising Raya was right.

* * *

><p>"Never mind my problems, Raya." Gosalyn changed the subject back. "At that door it was my job to-."<br>"But this is home!" Raya objected. "And Ian's not-."  
>"But!" Gosalyn interceded, "I've got a 'copper's beak'." Gosalyn pointed at the permanent fixture on her face. "Now as far as blobs go Ian may be a genuinely nice-."<br>"He is! Mummy agrees with me! If you'd read his aura-."  
>"Okay! Honey, okay! Settle down. Please." Gosalyn scrambled to recover Raya's quieter nature. "I'm not arguing about Ian I promise!"<p>

In the heated discussion the dishwasher had activated and Gosalyn quickly got up to turn it off again.

"I'm just trying to say that I've met his father on my ... job." Gosalyn stressed the word 'job' as she kept her eyes intently on Raya so she'd get the point.  
>Raya sighed and looked away in defeat. "So Ian ..."<br>"Had a long way to go to prove himself with us, yes." Gosalyn paused. "It's who ... we ... are, Ray. We Mallards have to be-."  
>"Careful, I know." Raya finished, "So in the end it's about keeping safe and that's the same reason I ended up choosing Simon instead of him." She sighed wearily.<p>

"But Ian isn't a bad person."  
>Gosalyn took a breath. "My impression of Ian was he wants the people in his life to be happy. Having a temperamental father I can understand why."<br>Raya stared at Gosalyn. "You did read his aura!"  
>Gosalyn shook her head. "Question, Ray. If Ian thought it'd make his father happy or just less crazy might he spill our secrets to him?"<br>Raya paused in thought. "I ... I don't know."  
>Gosalyn smiled sadly, having finally got to her point. "It's not just evil people that destroy the world. Grizlykoff's aura is full of good intentions yet you can see where his actions led me."<p>

Gosalyn was parched from talking and sick of hearing her own voice. She went and grabbed a glass of water from the decanter in the fridge.

* * *

><p>"What about Ian?" Raya asked quietly. "My actions hurt him."<p>

"Raya, honey." Gosalyn sighed as she sat down again. "Everything you said at the front door made sense to me. I think you made a sensible decision."  
>"But ... what about Simon's actions?" Raya sobbed. "What would you think, Gosalyn ... if you walked ... into a park with one boy ... and found yourself ... walking out with a different one? Not because of anything you did, but because ... he ... decided that's the way things were going to be?"<br>"Geez." Gosalyn imagined herself in that situation. "I'd probably yell at him and throw a couple punches to be sure he got my drift."  
>"Well, okay, but I don't want to punch Simon. He is ... I mean, to me he's nice. Except he's really ..."<br>"Pushy?"  
>"Exactly!" Raya exclaimed. "He's like 'that's me, no, no, not him, me!' He's still like that. It's hard to get anything figured out when he's so pushy."<br>'Does sound a bit like a cockerel.' Gosalyn thought aside.  
>"And he didn't even want to date me until I started dating someone else, and-."<br>"Whoa; pause the playback!" Gosalyn gaped at her sister as Raya looked back up at her. 'I am not just hearing this!'

Gosalyn took a breath. "Raya, honey. In the most basic, rational point of view that you may ever hear on this subject, I'll give it to you straight." She knelt down on the floor before Raya and looked up into her dark eyes. "You ... are too young ... to be dating ... anyone. It should barely even cross your mind, and not his either. Now ... I don't know why he thought you were the one for him but ... just maybe ... you've made him run to catch up to you ... and you know what that feels like."  
>"It's horrible." Raya lowered her eyes from Gosalyn, staring at her hands in her lap. "You're all out of breath and you're hot and tired and just generally cranky."<br>"And a tired, cranky person is easy to look like a ... a big scary ... green-eyed monster."  
>"But ... Q, Simon is a green-eyed monster."<p>

Gosalyn sighed wearily, watching Raya curling and uncurling her fingers in her lap. 'I am obviously not getting through here.' She looked back up at Raya's face. "Question, Ray. You think this Simon'll protect you?"  
>"Yes."<br>"Then there's got to be something good in him." She grabbed Raya's hands in hers and held them fast. "Go find it, Raya. That's what counts, isn't it? It's the good part that matters." Gosalyn leaned up and kissed Raya's forehead. "And d'you know something else sweetheart?" She raised her hand, smoothing down Raya's black hair. "That good part is what made dad fall in love with mum forever, so don't you dare underestimate it."

Gosalyn stood up.

"Simon's obviously crazy about you. Why? I mean, is it because you've got black hair? Because you dress all pretty?"  
>Raya screwed up her face in disapproval. "Gos-a-lyn."<br>"What about the other important things in Simon's life, Raya?" Gosalyn continued. "What's he missing by being with you instead?"  
>"... Gosalyn, you're asking me some really hard questions and-."<br>"Does Simon like football? Baseball? What about motorbikes?"  
>"I don't remember right now." Raya blinked in astonishment at Gosalyn's tirade of questions.<br>"Is he into computer games?"  
>Raya frowned, screwing up her face in concentration. "I'll-I'll have to think about it."<br>"Find out. Ask him. Get some clues. I'll get you a notebook."  
>"A notebook like you and daddy use?" Her little sister's eyes instantly brightened with this idea, making Gosalyn smile.<p>

Gosalyn ducked out to the hall stand where the empty notebooks were stashed in the bottom left drawer. She glanced into the lounge room. Justin was still sitting on the lounge and Gosalyn was eternally grateful that he could read and was as interested in learning spells as she was because that's all the poor kid had to entertain himself with.

Gosalyn returned. "You've got plenty of clues to collect, Ray." She handed a much happier Raya the notebook.  
>"Thank you, Q."<br>"Will you be alright for a bit now, sis?"  
>Raya nodded. "I think so."<br>"I'm glad I could help. And listen: I'm here all afternoon for you and later dad will be here and he can give you a fresh pair of eyes."

Raya rubbed her eyes. "Ungh, that's a weird saying."  
>Gosalyn grinned to herself as she moved back to the doorway. "What colour do you want? Blue? Green?"<br>"Green. Simon's got pretty green eyes."  
>"Oops!" Gosalyn spun around, "don't tell him he's pretty! Boys hate that. That's a girl word."<br>"What about lovely?"  
>"That one's alright," Gosalyn grimaced all the same, "I guess. It's more about how you feel about him."<br>"Oh, yes." Raya sat there, looking at her new notebook, lost in thought.

"I'm just in the lounge room, Ray."

* * *

><p>"Thank you, Justin!" Gosalyn gushed at her brother as she came into the lounge room. "You're my hero!"<p>

She sat down and collected her bundled-up egg from him.  
>"Aw, hee." Justin flushed pinkly with an embarrassed grin on his face. "You're welcome, Q, but it wasn't such a big thing."<br>"Oh, yes, it certainly was!" Gosalyn exclaimed. "Sitting still's got to be the hardest part of any job in the whole entire world! And egg-sitting my egg is the most important job in ... my ... whole entire world!" She hooked her arm around him in a hug. "That makes you my superhero brother!"  
>"Yeah? Me!" He grinned widely accepting the praise and jumped off the chair with his pent-up energy. "I'm gonna go play outside now!"<br>"Y'wanna borrow my baseball bat?" Gosalyn offered in reward. "Practicing my swing always helps me when I've got to move."  
>"Thanks, Q!"<br>"Thank you, Justin."  
>"Thank everybody!" Justin dashed up the stairs, jumped back down in a moment and shot out the back door with the bat. Gosalyn blinked and almost missed him.<p>

A few moments later Raya made her way slowly up the stairs, pondering the mystery of her new boyfriend, the notebook in her hand.

Gosalyn dragged her spell book back towards her and found her page again.


	36. Ch 4 Just

**LEFT WING: Part 36**

* * *

><p><strong>Just a Phone Call Away<strong>

* * *

><p>Raya's door upstairs shut. Gosalyn sat there on the chair, feeling as though she had forgotten something.<p>

"I hate this." She rubbed her head. "... I haven't gotten any mail ... what comes in by mail?" She wracked her brain, checking off the list. "Dad's bills, postcards, hate packages ... S.H.U.S.H. ..." She stopped. Two years ago she got that bank account. Before then her pay always came by a cheque in the mail.

Suddenly Gosalyn felt a tremor of hope. 'Maybe Launchpad just hasn't had the time to come around with it?'

Putting aside her egg, Gosalyn dashed across the room and grabbed the handset from the phone table by the stairs. She carried it back and settled back onto the chair. She hit speed dial.

* * *

><p>"Ace Air Dynamics." The familiar voice was warm and friendly. It gave Gosalyn a reassured feeling.<br>"Hiyah, Launchpad."  
>"Oh, hey, Gos! I was just thinking about you. How're you going?"<br>"I'm doing a bit better. Still really burned ... Did dad tell you what happened?"  
>"Yeah! He said yeh cut your boss down to size in front of twenty-three eyewitnesses, folded him up and filed him in the recycling bin."<br>Gosalyn laughed at the image of Grizlykoff in a flat pack. "I wi-ish!"  
>"From what I heard you handled it with a real level head. I'm proud of you, Q."<br>Gosalyn felt tears spring into her eyes. It seemed all she was ever doing was brushing away a haze lately. "I miss you, Launchpad."  
>"Aw, you've been busy, kiddo, and you know I've had my own hands pretty full too."<br>"Yeah." Gosalyn agreed. Part of it was because he'd been doing her job on the streets since she'd become Grizlykoff's dogsbody.

"S'what's up?"  
>"I was just checking: you haven't had any mail come around for me at the Tower? You know; any letters, abusive phone calls or anything?"<br>"No, it's all quiet on the western front."  
>Gosalyn sat back, letting the fact settle on her.<br>"I take it you're waiting on something?"  
>"Yeah."<br>"I'll come straight round as soon as I get anything, I promise."  
>"Thanks, Launchpad." She sighed. "I think maybe they've already forgotten about me."<br>"Heh, not a chance." He chuckled.

"Y'know, kiddo ... If you're waiting on some grease, maybe you need to be a squeaky wheel."  
>"What's that mean, Launchpad?"<br>"Sometimes you need to speak up to be heard, kiddo. S'what yeh dad does. He's not shy of raising his voice when he's gotta. Heh, or he's just plain ol' Drake Mallard."  
>Gosalyn flashed on an idea. "I'm looking for a letter; I can write them a letter! What a great idea! Thanks, Launchpad."<br>"Hey, no problems, little buddy. Hope it helps."  
>"Oh!" She sighed. "It sure as heck beats doin' nothin' about it! This is great ... you're great, Launchpad! Thanks."<br>"Just warning yeh, it might take a bit. You have to wait for the letters to go round. It's not like email with these guys."  
>"It might show up before they get my letter. I've got nothing to lose by pushing."<br>"Well, okay. I better go. I've got a few squeaky wheels of my own I need to tend to. See you around, Q. We'll catch up soon."  
>"Yeah, I look forward to it."<br>Gosalyn hung up and picked up her egg.

She turned and looked at the spinning chairs. "Number one: scrambled eggs, number two, Justin's out the back and I'm on duty. Number three, I can just draft it first and write it up on the computer later. So I just need my notepad right now." She got up aiming for the phone table, phone in one hand and egg in the other. "Come on, baby, we're just going upstairs for a moment."


	37. Ch 4 Gloom

**Gloom**

* * *

><p>Gosalyn stepped up the stairs, listening as the sound of the 1820s got gradually louder.<p>

She moved past her own door and knocked on Raya's door.  
>"Yes?"<br>Gosalyn opened the door. Raya was sitting at her desk writing in an exercise book. Her angelic face was framed by black coiled-up hair and today her dress was floral blue. Like a miniature version of their mother there was no question that she was pretty enough to turn a boy's head.

"How're you going up here, Raya?" Gosalyn nodded at the player. "Bit of different music for a change?"  
>"It's Ludwing Beethoven."<br>"Yes. His piano Sonata Number 32 Opus 111 in C Minor if I am not mistaken." Gosalyn snickered at Raya's look of surprise that her sister would have this shard of excess information. "Oh, you'd be surprised at some of the things your older sister knows, kiddo. Me and Honk stand hereto undefeated in a Trivia contest."

Raya tapped her beak in thought. "You used to play the piano. When I was very little. You wanted to be a musician. Why did you stop?"  
>"Three words: Saxophone."<br>"That's one word."  
>"I was just surprised because I'd have expected you to be listening to Aquaduck." Gosalyn changed the subject back to the reason she'd interrupted her sister. "This is rather dark and uh ..." Gosalyn searched for another word to describe it and her impression of Beethoven in general. "Intense."<br>"This is Simon's music."  
>Gosalyn raised an eyebrow. "My statement remains standing."<p>

"He said it's peaceful and helps him think so he shared it with me." Raya explained.  
>Gosalyn had to give this Simon boy some credit. This was a good gambit. "Does it give you peace?"<br>"Yeah, kinda. It makes me feel like I don't have to have my head full so much. What do you think of it?"  
>"Beethoven?" Gosalyn nodded in mild acceptance. "The way those notes go flying off the page everywhere is pretty cool." She shrugged. "But Franciscus Quack is cool too and so is Creedence Clearwater Revival. There's a time and a place for every kind of music."<br>"Is Creedence one of your favourites?"  
>"That's not the point." Gosalyn dismissed the question. "I'm saying it's a rainbow of sound out there, waiting for you to listen to it. It's all out there, kiddo."<p>

"Some of it has bad language."  
>Gosalyn felt her world come crashing down. "What?" She just managed to stop herself from saying 'so what if the rest of it's good?' Which would start another round of World War Three ... a battle which she would undoubtedly lose.<br>"Dad said." Raya disapproved and crossed her arms. "There aren't any words in Simon's music. I asked before I let him share it with me."  
>"... 'Let' him?" Gosalyn repeated in dismay. "Let! Hear yourself, Raya! Who do you think you are?" Gosalyn was outraged. "Here you are complaining that people haven't been nice to Ian. Well, stop and ask yourself how you're treating Simon! If someone else does something nice for you, what do you say, huh? Why does Simon deserve any less?"<br>Raya looked away from Gosalyn and down at her writing book. "He doesn't." She answered weakly.  
>Gosalyn's glimmer of triumph disappeared an instant later as she realised her little sister's bubble had popped again.<p>

"Nobody's perfect, Raya." Gosalyn reassured her. "It's not just you who has to learn this stuff, you know?" Gosalyn leant in close to Raya. "I'll include myself in this one; I'm a prime example. Okay?"  
>Raya nodded tearily. "Okay."<br>"Both of us. You and me. We're being all doom and gloom and it's really got to stop. It's not healthy for you, not healthy for me; and in the end we're hurting the people we care about."  
>"But I'm-."<br>"That's not good enough, Raya. I'm sorry. 'But' we're both dealing with a lot. Don't sweat the small stuff, Raya. That's Beethoven's biggest lesson. We can't let it get in the way of our lives; we've got to deal with it and move on."  
>"Beethoven's music isn't saying anything."<br>"Yes, it is. Listen to it."  
>Raya turned her head to the speakers. They listened for a minute or so. Gosalyn noticed a loose corner of blanket and folded it back into the bundle.<p>

"No, he's not saying anything." Raya stated with a frown.  
>"Oh, Raya." Gosalyn sighed, wondering why her sister was such a hard shell all the time. She was a typical porcelain doll. Raya was one of those 'try to repose her and you could break something' dolls.<br>"No, I'm not being difficult!" Raya was obviously reading Gosalyn's aura and was getting quite testy. "You're not telling me all the facts, Gosalyn!"  
>"What are you hearing, Raya?"<br>"Music."  
>"What do you think of the music?"<br>"It's nice."  
>"Is it good music?"<br>"Yeah." Raya shrugged. "Why are you making such a big deal about Beethoven, Gosalyn?"  
>"Coz, you know ..." Gosalyn felt tears spring into her eyes again, "Beethoven never once let things that happened to him stop him doing some really great stuff. And I know that song you're listening to right there is one he wrote ... after he went deaf."<br>Raya stared at her player in all new appreciation. "Wow."

"You're a Mallard, Ray. So am I. We come from a long line of heroes. We've got to toughen up and not let it beat us. So!" Gosalyn stated determinedly. "I'm going to start acting like a Mallard again, and I hope you follow my lead. I'm beat. So what? I'm going to get right back up and start fighting again. If Beethoven did it, then there's no reason in the world that I can't. And there is not a single valid reason that you can't either, little miss." Gosalyn grabbed the door handle. "It might be really nice for your Simon to hear a 'thank you' for being as thoughtful as to share something so nice with you. You can tell him that the next time you meet up."  
>"Yes. Definitely." Raya nodded emphatically.<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn left Raya's room and went next door back to her own room. She rebundled the blankets around her egg and put it on the bed. Then she turned her own player on and grabbed her pillow. She lay back on her bed, putting the pillow over her head. 'D'oh, boy, if that cloud of thick gloom of hers doesn't just suck the life right out of you.'<p>

_"Deep down Louisiana close to New Orleans_  
><em>Way back up in the woods among the evergreens<em>  
><em>There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood<em>  
><em>Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode<em>  
><em>Who never ever learned to read or write so well<em>  
><em>But he could play the guitar just like a ringing a bell."<em>

There was a small knocking on the door.  
>"Gosalyn's not in right now, if you care to leave a message, I'll get back to you." She heard the door open.<br>"What are you listening to, Gosalyn?"  
>"Chuck Berry."<p>

_"He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack_  
><em>Go sit beneath the tree by the railroad track<em>  
><em>Oh, the engineers would see him sitting in the shade<em>  
><em>Strumming with the rhythm that the drivers made<em>  
><em>People passing by they would stop and say<em>  
><em>Oh my that little country boy could play."<em>

"What's that mean, Gosalyn?" Raya asked during the chorus.  
>"It's an epitomizing statement of egalitarianism." Gosalyn answered through the pillow.<p>

_"His mother told him 'Someday you will be a man,_  
><em>And you will be the leader of a big old band.<em>  
><em>Many people coming from miles around<em>  
><em>To hear you play your music when the sun go down<em>  
><em>Maybe someday your name will be in lights<em>  
><em>Saying Johnny B. Goode tonight.' "<em>

_"Go go_  
><em>Go Johnny go<em>  
><em>Go go go Johnny go ..."<em>

"What's 'e-gal-itarianism' mean, Q?"  
>Gosalyn sat up and put her pillow back on the bed. "It means 'It doesn't matter who you are, it matters what you're good for'. There are people out there ... and ... they're not as good as what they think they are. And maybe, someday, someone's going to knock them right back down into reality with something like a big flashing neon sign, saying 'I deserve every bit of recognition and success that I have because I am actually, in reality, very good at what I do'." She lay back down on her pillow. "I am good at what I do." She repeated to herself.<p>

"Why not today? Why only 'someday'?"  
>"Raya, if you don't mind." Gosalyn looked at her little sister and how she could look like their mother so much yet be just as demanding and obtuse as their father. "I just got out of my dinghy and I haven't got my land legs back yet, let alone got myself another boat. Yeah, I'll get back up, give me time. I've got to think of something first. Maybe not today, but someday. And don't you worry. It's gonna be soon."<br>"You can't keep a good duck down?"  
>"Exactly."<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn got up grabbing up her notepad from her desk. "Dear Grizlykoff, where's my thirty pieces of silver?" She sat back down on her bed. I know; I'll make this sound like he wrote it himself." She grinned. "This is the game he wants to play?" She laughed in satisfaction, seeing the oh-so-perfect director unable to find fault with this letter that was soon to be in his In Tray. "So, let's play." She reached for her music player and switched play lists.<br>"Ugh, that sounds very different." Raya grunted almost immediately as the crash of drums and the multitude of guitars poured out of the speakers.  
>"Oh, yes, that was rock and roll. This is hard rock."<br>"I like Simon's music better."  
>"You mean classical music." Gosalyn categorised. "Like I said, there's a time and a place for every kind of music and right now I need hard rock."<br>"Well, you seem to be a lot happier now anyway, so I'll leave you alone." Raya remarked and left the room, shutting the door behind her.  
>"Tha-anks." Gosalyn called out after her sister. "Dear Director, I wish - no I would like - to draw your attention ... Yeah that's good." She laughed. "Oh, this is gonna be re-eal good. This'll get to him like ... itching powder. He'll definitely pay up after reading this little bureaucratic number."<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn finished chiseling her temper and frustrations into S.H.U.S.H. terminology and went downstairs with her notepad. Her triumph at hand.<p>

"Hello, dear, how are you today?" Her mother called from the kitchen.  
>"Afternoon, mum." Gosalyn detoured into the kitchen and hugged her mum single-handedly. "Doing better. Writing this letter really helped. I'm going to portal over to the tower and type it up so I can send it."<br>"Are you sure that's a good idea, dear?"  
>"It can't do any damage and I want my paycheque," Gosalyn argued, "he has no right to sit on it like this; I did the work."<br>"Yes, that's very true. I just meant: are you not having afternoon tea with us?"  
>"Oh ... yeah." Gosalyn realised, glancing at the time on the microwave. "Sure, 'I'll do this letter thing tomorrow. It's long past the post today anyway."<br>"Oh, that's wonderful to hear dear." Her mother offered her a tray of carrot sticks, gumples, cucumber and celery.  
>"I'll just put this away." Gosalyn stashed her notepad safely in the mail tray.<br>"You'd better hurry and put it on the table for everyone. Those gumples are quite fresh, dear." Morgana helped and relieved Gosalyn of her egg for the moment.


	38. Ch 4 Portal

_A/N: The person who said 'turnabout is fair play' must have been a grandparent. In this case welcome to the terrifying tale of: The Revenge of Darkwing Duck! Mwahahaha! No babysitter is safe!_

_Part 38 is much more sensibly titled than that, of course._

* * *

><p><strong>Mary Portals<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Saturday through Sunday)<em>

The evening went as busily as usual and Gosalyn woke up the next morning feeling more energetic than she'd felt for a long time. 'I'm doing something.' She thought happily to herself.

After breakfast she rounded up Raya and Justin, getting the stroller blanketed up and secured her egg as well as the device was able. "Ready, kids?" She held out her hands and Justin and Raya came towards her. Then she concentrated and lifted her hand, bringing the portal shimmering into the lounge room. "Go on." She grabbed the handle of the stroller and followed them through.

* * *

><p>Darkwing Tower. It felt like ages since she'd been in here last.<p>

"I love daddy's workplace." Justin laughed and dashed off.  
>"Be careful, kids." Gosalyn added the parental line. "I'm going to be up at the computer, Raya."<br>"I'm going to read one of daddy's books ... maybe I should look after your egg? I'm just going to be sitting down and you have to climb."  
>"That would be lovely if you could do that, Raya." Gosalyn undid the stroller and handed Raya the bundle. "You just need to be gentle and keep it warm. Stay on the carpet or the lounge chair because it's a bit cold on this floor."<br>"Sure." Raya nodded and wandered over to the library corner.

"Justin, don't press any buttons or turn any switches." Gosalyn called out as she headed to the ladder. "I don't want to be the one to explain to Launchpad how his flyer ended up in the gullet of one of Neptunia's pets."

"How'd you know I was in the flyer?"

"Because I'm The Quiverwing Quack." 'It was either that or the motorbike first.' Gosalyn flicked the computer on. She loaded up the writing software and quickly typed up the letter, finished formatting it and pressed print. 'Piece of cake.' She smiled to herself in approval. She reached for the page from the printer.

The roar of the ratcatcher's engine broke the peace.

'Holy batwings!' Gosalyn slid down the ladder and raced across the room, timing herself and vaulting onto the moving bike.  
>"Help!" Justin begged her as she righted herself in the sidecar. He had twisted the handlebars hard to keep from running into a wall and they were now going around in tight circles.<br>"Twist the grip back towards you!"  
>The machine slowed down and Gosalyn hopped seats and sat behind Justin. With her hands over his she eased the bike out of the circle and got the motorcycle back to where it should be. She parked and killed the engine and she took her hands off the bars and put them around Justin's middle.<p>

She felt his heart pounding against her fingers. "Is your heart racing, Justin?"  
>"Yes." He squeaked.<br>"It should be." She picked him up and put him on the floor and got off the bike herself. He was shaking and he stumbled to keep himself standing. 'He's barely more than a baby.' Gosalyn knelt down and hugged him. "You're alright, kiddo. It's alright."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Justin." She set him down on the floor again. "Can you fetch me an envelope from dad's desk, please? I'll just get my letter and then we can all take a nice quiet walk downtown to put it in their mailbox."<br>"Uh ... Q?"  
>"Yes, Justin?"<br>"Um ... should I be using gloves?"  
>"Was that to drive the bike or to handle the envelope?"<br>He blushed in embarrassment. "The envelope."  
>"Yeah, why not?" She grinned, "Then it'll all be in such immaculate, pristine condition. Come on, we'll get some gloves out of the clothes rack."<p>

She crossed the tower with Justin trotting by her side holding onto her hand.

* * *

><p>"Oh, these are so cool." Justin reviewed the clothes on the rack.<br>"Yeah." Gosalyn smiled. "You put them on and become somebody else."  
>"Dad doesn't say that. He says it's 'the guy inside you'. What does that mean, Q?"<br>In answer Gosalyn lifted up one of their dad's costumes from the rack and took it off the hanger. She knelt down and pulled it over Justin's head and down over his green shirt. She smiled at him standing there in a giant puddle of fabric. "It's a bit big on you yet."  
>"Boy, it's really heavy."<br>"It's gotta be." She picked up the fedora hat and put it on Justin's head. "It's what's gonna keep you alive."

Gosalyn picked her little brother up and put him in front of their dad's antique full length mirror. She started rolling up the sleeves for him. "There." She grinned. "Now, what'd'ya think of that, Justin?"  
>He pushed the brim of the hat up so he could see himself better. "I look really scary." He picked up the edge of the cape and wrapped it around himself. "Is that what daddy is at work? Really scary?"<br>"Aw, is he ever!" Gosalyn beamed proudly. "He's only the toughest, meanest, strongest scariest guy out there and he may not look big but he casts a pretty big shadow when he wants to. Look out, bad guys, coz here comes Darkwing Duck."

"He's just 'daddy' to me." Justin grabbed both edges of the cape in his hands and brandished it high over his head. "So that's what he means about the inside!" Justin smiled. "I like this; it feels nice."  
>"Don't get too attached, it's got to go back on the rack shortly."<br>"Oh, your envelope."  
>"That's okay, kid." Gosalyn said, picking up a set of gloves and putting them on. "I want you to enjoy that feeling a bit longer."<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn went up and fetched her letter from the printer, then went over to the old wooden desk and pulled out an envelope. She undid her father's fluid pen and wrote in as elegant lettering as possible. "Att: Director." Then she looked at her letter.<br>"Signed ..."

Gosalyn looked at her gloved hands that contrasted with her pastel purple shirt. "He's got me so confused; I don't know who I am anymore." She snorted. "Yeah, like he cares who I am!" She put a giant X at the bottom and carefully folded the letter and tucked it into the envelope. She pulled out a large evidence bag from the drawer. "Well, why take chances?" She put the letter inside and tucked the package into her shirt pocket.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn went across the space and sat down on the carpet in front of her sister.<p>

"How're you going, Raya? I keep feeling like I miss you out on things. I don't mean to."  
>Raya looked up at her from the book. "It's okay. We like different things."<br>"Do you wanna play dress-ups with Justin?"  
>Raya sighed. "No. I'm saving my energy for the nice walk we're going to have in the sunshine."<br>"Oh, okay, Raya. I want to thank you for looking after my egg. It was very thoughtful of you to ask."  
>"It did trouble me with you going up there. Knowing Justin hasn't learnt how to drive yet, it did seem very likely he'd panic."<br>Gosalyn blinked. "If you knew it was going to happen then why didn't you let me know?"  
>"Because you already knew all you needed to know." Raya answered serenely.<br>Gosalyn sat back. "Boy ..." She blinked. "That classical music's a winner on you, sis."

"It was a very nice thought of Simon's, you were right." Raya replied. "And I paused, and considered it. There was a thing you said. In your room. When I said I liked Simon's music, you corrected me and said it was 'classical music'. There came a thought to me. Simon does listen to classical music. He has things like Bach, and Vivaldi, and John Williams, and Danny Elfman but the only music he gave me was Beethoven." Raya paused. "Did he do that so you would say that, so I would listen and consider as I have?"  
>"Whoa, that's pretty deep stuff, Raya." Gosalyn breathed. "I mean, I don't understand the half of what you just said, but if something's good for me, I like to give it the benefit of the doubt and just take it as a good thing."<br>"Yes."

"How did you make Justin quieten down so easily?"  
>"He's thinking." Gosalyn smiled. "Why don't you go see?" Gosalyn held out her hands and Raya handed her the egg and the book. Raya walked off and Gosalyn put the book away.<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn wandered over after Raya. "What do you think, Raya?"<br>"He looks very fetching." Raya looked at the mirror and waved at their little brother's reflection, then reached down and hugged Justin.  
>"Now there's a word I don't get." Justin grunted from underneath the oversized fedora. "Isn't 'fetch' a doing word?"<br>"Mummy says it all the time to daddy." Raya answered Justin. "It's an odd one out."  
>"What, another one?" Justin snorted. "I'm going to start a collection of weird words."<br>"Come on, kids." Gosalyn smiled. "I'm going crazy standing still. Let's get out of here."

* * *

><p><em>AND THUS CONCLUDES CHAPTER FOUR!<em>


	39. Ch 5 One in Two

**LEFT WING: Part 39**

* * *

><p>CHAPTER FIVE<p>

* * *

><p><strong>One in Two<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Tuesday of the last week of the term holidays)<em>

Gosalyn woke up to a faint sound nearby. She sat up and checked her light blue egg. It had a thin black crack down the side. "Oh, my gosh you're too early to be doing this!" Her heart stuttered. "But I didn't drop you in my sleep! And I know you were fine last night!"

She leaned in closer, holding a fearful breath. "Baby?" She sensed a motion from within and the green speckled egg moved slightly. "Oh, thank goodness. Come on, baby, you can do it; push harder."

There was another motion and the egg cracked even more.  
>"Yeah, that's the way."<br>There was a tiny muffled quack in response.  
>"Yes, mummy's right here. I'm right here, come on, give it another push."<br>Another try and a piece chipped clean off this time leaving a little hole.  
>"This is great!" Gosalyn trembled in excitement. "You're doing great, baby." She wanted to help, but knew it was too risky at this point. "Come on, baby, I know you can do it. Give it another shove."<p>

The top of the shell broke off.  
>"Hoo-yeah! You just need one more really big shove. You're on the home stretch, darling."<br>There was a moment that seemed like forever before her duckling summoned all its strength and gave a final heave at the shell and made it break apart.  
>"Yahoo!" Gosalyn quacked in joy.<p>

* * *

><p>"Gosalyn!"<p>

Gosalyn looked over at the door for a split second as her father practically jumped into the room in alarm.  
>"You're a granddad!" She explained before fixing her eyes back on her duckling.<br>The duckling's down was damp and there was a tiny tuft of red hair on top of its head. It teetered unsteadily on its feet before sitting down amidst the fragments of egg shell. It looked dazedly around at the folds of blanket surrounding it before it looked up at Gosalyn. It was mesmerizing to watch.

"Mummy?"  
>"Yes, I am your mummy!" Gosalyn exalted, feeling the total adrenalin high. "Absolutely, completely, 100%, beyond a shadow of a doubt I am your mummy!"<br>The duckling smiled back at her.  
>Gosalyn carefully collected her baby in her hands, feeling the soft delicate feet searching for a footing.<p>

* * *

><p>"I'm proud of you, Gos. You are a responsible young adult beyond a shadow of a doubt."<p>

She tore her eyes away to look up at Drake. Her father was standing in the doorway, beaming back at her.  
>"Well, of course. It's about time someone noticed." Gosalyn grinned back at him. "Hey, come on!" She patted the bed beside her and Drake advanced into the room. "I couldn't have done it without your help."<br>Drake sat down beside them and put the blanket bundle with the discarded eggshell to the far side of him.

"Baby, this is your granddad." Gosalyn announced and turned her hands so the duckling could see him.  
>The duckling shuffled its tiny tickling feet and looked up curiously at him. "Anda?"<br>Gosalyn grinned at her duckling as her father wrapped his arm around her shoulders.  
>"Yes, I'm your granddad." He answered the baby and then nudged his beak against Gosalyn's cheek.<p>

"You've got a girl-."  
>"Yeah." Gosalyn quipped. "The odds were a one in two chance."<br>"-With a tuft of red hair just like her mother."  
>Gosalyn looked at her red-headed duckling in sheer amazement at how real this experience was and how wonderful it felt to have her father's arm around her shoulder right now.<p>

"Now you'll need to figure out a name. It took your mother and me a solid five hour block to decide what to call your brother."  
>"Five hours? Gosh! Well, I guess I have no one to fight with ..."<p>

As Gosalyn pondered over the ultra important issue the hatchling's down was beginning to dry. She nudged Gosalyn's fingers with her soft head and tried to find a corner in her fingers to snuggle into. Gosalyn curved her fingers closer around her baby and the duckling sat down with a contented sigh.  
>"Oh, my gosh." Gosalyn whispered with an incredible feeling of warmth. "She's so beautiful, dad."<br>"...Yeah..." He answered in a dreamy voice.

Gosalyn continued to gaze at her precious light-weight bundle resting delicately in the cradle of her hands, searching for a fitting name.

Gosalyn eventually paused on one of the names that battled through her mind. "How about ... Catlyn?"  
>" 'Catlyn Mallard'. Yeah." Drake grinned at Gosalyn and she grinned back. "It has a ring to it."<br>"Then Catlyn it is." Gosalyn decided firmly. "Hello, Catlyn Crimson Rocket Mallard."


	40. Ch 5 Crowded

**Crowded**

* * *

><p>After some time of Drake and Gosalyn gaping speechlessly and Catlyn resting comfortably Drake stirred himself.<br>"Well I'll need to-."  
>"I suppose I need to-." Gosalyn said over the top of him. "Sorry."<br>"You first, honey."  
>"I'll need to take her to the baby specialist clinic."<br>"Ah, no hurry, sweetie, she's doing fine." Drake said in a warm confident tone. "Go in when you're ready. You've got a month before you're legally required to register her."

There was a knock on the door interrupting them.

"Yes?" Gosalyn looked up.  
>Morgana poked her head in the room. "Good morning, Gosalyn. How's it going in here?"<p>

"Please ask, oh, come on, please, mummy!" Justin's tiny voice begged from the corridor. "It's been ages!"  
>Morgana went slightly pink. "Are you ready for some visitors, Gos?"<br>Gosalyn felt very happy about the idea of sharing Catlyn with everyone and beamed at her mother. "Sure."

Justin came busting in frantically excited and Morgana grabbed his arm to restrain him.  
>"Wow! She's toy sized!" Justin exclaimed. "See her, Raya? Isn't she tiny?"<br>"Yes, she is ..." Raya stepped quietly into place beside her brother.  
>"Now, you make sure and give your sister some room. Don't crowd the baby." Morgana mediated the proceedings. "You first Raya; you're the eldest."<br>"Aw, nuts." Justin muttered in disappointment. "I'm sick of that rule."

The commotion had Catlyn alert and she was peering out between Gosalyn's fingers at the newcomers in curiosity.

"Catlyn. This is your aunty Raya." Gosalyn advised and opened out her hands more.  
>Raya came forward on tenterhooks. "Hello, Catlyn."<br>"Ayah?  
>"She's skinny." Raya commented up to Gosalyn. "She probably needs to eat."<br>"Ee?"  
>"Catlyn just hatched." Gosalyn frowned at Raya. "It was really crowded in her egg as it was. Wasn't it, Catlyn? Yes."<p>

"Raya," Drake began in a strained voice, "remember what Uncle Launchpad taught you about thinking positively about things?" Their father asked in a stilted manner.  
>"Yes?"<br>"Well," he gritted, "don't you think that now would be a good time to try it? Please?"  
>"Um ..." Raya struggled with the difficult task. "She's got nice green eyes?"<br>Drake groaned quietly, putting his hand over his eyes for a moment. "Good ... try, honey, let's ... work on it a bit more, huh?"

"Would you like to hold her, Raya?" Gosalyn offered her little sister. "She might grow on you."  
>"No-thank-you!" Raya had a terrified look on her face as she shook her head. The six year old darted back behind Justin and grabbed their mother's hand.<br>"Raya, despite all the evidence to the contrary, babies are ... not ... evil." Gosalyn promised her little sister.  
>"I know. I just don't want to get bitten."<br>Gosalyn's glanced at Justin. "Don't tell me you're traumatised by 'that'." Gosalyn groaned at Raya. "It was just a reflex action."  
>"Raya, dear." Morgana cooed, "you mustn't go through your life without ever-."<p>

"Why did everyone look at me just then?" Justin interrupted with a frown. He looked up at his mother and then back to Raya. "I didn't do that to you, did I, Raya? Oh, no, I'm really sorry."  
>There was a moment of silence in the room as everyone looked over at Raya.<br>"It's okay, Justin. You were too little to know any better." Raya let go of their mother's skirt and hugged Justin in forgiveness. "It didn't really hurt. I'm just a big scaredy cat."  
>"You don't have to be scared, Raya, I keep telling you that." Justin insisted. "You've got everybody to love you and look after you including me. I really promise. Okay?"<br>Raya nodded weakly back at him.  
>"Oh, dear." Morgana picked Raya up and hugged her closely. "It isn't the end of the world, sweetie."<p>

"I'd like to try, Q. I'm not afraid of getting bitten." Justin stated boldly to Gosalyn and came stepping assertively up.

"Catlyn, this is your uncle Justin." Gosalyn introduced him.  
>Compared to Catlyn, Justin was a huge giant, his head and beak reaching over the top of Gosalyn's bed.<br>"Jus?" Catlyn quacked.  
>Justin ran his first finger down the back of Catlyn's head and then twisted around. "Raya, she didn't bite me." He reported. "She didn't even try to nip me."<br>"Yeah; that's your luck, Justin!" Raya retorted in mild irritation as Morgana set her down on the floor again.  
>"Mo-re importantly." Their father interrupted. "Justin approached the situation with the right attitude." He ruffled Justin's head feathers. "Accentuate the positive. Downplay the negative. Never let minor setbacks defeat you or spoil the chance for a bit of fun." He held out his hand for Raya. "Do you want to try again, Raya?"<br>Raya glanced at Gosalyn and Gosalyn smiled encouragingly at her.  
>"Catlyn?" Raya hesitated and stepped closer.<p>

Raya copied Justin's action of running her finger down the back of Catlyn's head.  
>"See, that wasn't too bad." Drake told her.<p>

"So let's recap on today's lesson, 'Grandpa'." Gosalyn eyed him. "Whenever you say it's 'only' a hundred foot squirrel bent on global domination, that's you thinking positively?"  
>"Hey! It could be worse. It could be a hundred foot rabid squirrel ... okay, so that's not such a big deal either. Well, what about ... no-oo ..."<br>"I got one: 'History Assignment'." Gosalyn suggested.  
>Drake looked at Gosalyn with narrow eyes. "Can I help it if I'm a concerned parent?"<br>Gosalyn looked down at Catlyn in her hand. "There's concerned ... and then there's ..."  
>"Downright fanatical?" Drake offered.<br>Catlyn shuffled her tiny webbed feet and turned to look up at Gosalyn. "Mummy!" She quacked happily at the top of her tiny voice, fluffing her arms.  
>"Oh, gosh." Gosalyn couldn't believe how much of her heart went to her tiny duckling and held her closer.<p>

"Y-ep." Drake observed in some amusement. "This is going to be an interesting turnaround."  
>"What do you mean d-grandpa?" Gosalyn blinked over at him.<br>"Oh, nothing at all, sweetie." He smiled at her. "Come on, Justin, Raya," he jumped up and herded them out of the room, "let's give your sister some room, huh?"  
>"Da-ad, what do you mean 'turnaround'?" Gosalyn exclaimed as he disappeared through the doorway.<p>

"Where'd Catlyn's loud voice come from?" Raya asked in the corridor. "She's so tiny."  
>"From her mummy. Didn't you just hear your sister?" Drake's voice disappeared as they went downstairs.<br>Gosalyn ended up looking at her mother for help.  
>"I'm sorry, honey." Morgana shrugged. "You know I try to never get between you and your father."<br>Gosalyn shook the question off. "It's just him being weird again anyway." She adjusted Catlyn in her arms so she could get a look at Morgana as she sat down next to them. "Catlyn, this is your grandma." Gosalyn introduced, offering for Morgana to hold her.  
>"Amma?"<br>"Hello, Catlyn dear." Morgana took her up into her hands.  
>"Don't confuse her with baby-talk, mum-grandma. Please." Gosalyn felt a moment of mental anguish. Her mother was fluent in several languages including Romanian, Quackonese and baby talk.<br>"Of course not, dear. She'll never learn that way." Morgana said matter-of-factly. "Is there anything else you think you need in her baby bag?"  
>Gosalyn looked across the room at the giant pastel green bag that had everything in it from triple A nappies to a packet of home made antiseptic wet wipes. "I don't know, mum." Gosalyn mused for a moment. "I guess there's only one way to find out."<p>

"Ow?" Catlyn quacked in confusion, looking from Morgana back to Gosalyn.  
>"Come on, Miss Catlyn Mallard." Gosalyn got to a stand and took Catlyn back. "Let's go visit mummy's best friend."<br>"Remember to feed her before you go, honey." Morgana reminded her as she got up and stepped towards the door. "You don't want your daughter out of sorts on her first trip outside."  
>Gosalyn looked down at Catlyn in her arms after Morgana had left. "Regular meals. Vitally important. Are you hungry, Catlyn?" She glanced at the clock and saw how late it was. "Mummy is too."<p>

Gosalyn grabbed the green bag and found a nappy. "I'd better start with putting this on you, baby."  
>"Nowanoo!" Catlyn squirmed.<br>"Well, I'm sorry." Gosalyn gritted, "but until you're toilet trained this is the way we have to do it now hold-still!"  
>After a few minutes Gosalyn had won the battle and Catlyn was wearing the nappy.<br>"There." Gosalyn said in triumph. "That isn't so bad now, is it?"  
>Catlyn shook her head unhappily poking at the nappy stuck on her. "Ohehtaimummy?"<br>Gosalyn picked her duckling carefully up. "All set." Gosalyn stated confidently. "Let's go have some late lunch, Catlyn."  
>"Ee?"<br>"Yes, Catlyn. Let's go eat some food."


	41. Ch 5 Hug

**LEFT WING: Part 41**

* * *

><p><strong>Hug<strong>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn discovered Catlyn was a fraction too small for the highchair so Gosalyn sat her carefully on the kitchen table and kept an eye on her.<p>

"I'll bring down a towel to prop her up next time."

"Here, sweetie." Drake handed her a plate with a sandwich on it and a banana and a fork and spoon for Catlyn.  
>"Thanks, grandpa." She smiled up at him and then quickly looked back to Catlyn. "You're getting spoilt, Catlyn."<p>

"Here you are, Gos." Raya chimed, handing her a glass of water as well.  
>"Thank you, Raya. You're wonderful." Gosalyn stated.<br>"I wanted to do that!" Justin whined.  
>"Well thank you for the thought, Justin." Gosalyn told him.<br>"Is your soup warm enough, kids?" Morgana asked as Drake sat down to his own bowl.  
>"Yes, mine's warm, thank you, mummy." Raya and Justin chimed.<p>

Catlyn sniffed at Gosalyn's sandwich and sat back, making a face.  
>"Don't fuss, Catlyn, that's not for you; it's for mummy to eat." Gosalyn raised an eyebrow. 'I hope it isn't because it isn't what everyone else is eating.' "Here. This is yours." She peeled open the top of the banana and mushed the end of it with the fork onto her plate. Gosalyn ventured a small spoon of it to Catlyn's beak. "Open up, sweetie."<br>Catlyn managing a couple of pecks of banana mush and then got more interested in head butting Gosalyn's fingers.  
>"Uh, uh." Gosalyn moved her fingers out of the way. "Come on, Catlyn, a little bit more for mummy?"<br>"Ainoofothormummy." Catlyn answered and turned away to investigate Gosalyn's glass of water, case closed.  
>"Catlyn ..." Gosalyn tried again.<p>

"Gosalyn," Gosalyn's mother cut in with a gentle tone, "remember how small Catlyn's stomach is before you start panicking, sweetheart."  
>"Whoa!" Gosalyn rescued the glass before it toppled.<br>"Raya and Justin started off with just a few pecks too. She'll have more later; you'll see." Morgana advised.  
>"Okay, grandma." Gosalyn finished the banana that was on the spoon herself and glanced around at everyone. They were all watching her and Catlyn as they ate their soup. "What, nothing on TV?" She joked in embarrassment as she tipped some water onto the spoon and offered it to Catlyn. "Here, Catlyn. Have some water."<br>After a few pecks of water Catlyn lost interest. "Ainoomummy." She declared and once again completely ignored the spoon and her mother. Now she was looking around at everyone at the table, giving Gosalyn a chance to finish the rest of the banana and eat her sandwich. Gosalyn kept her right arm free so she could keep Catlyn from wandering too far.

Catlyn turned back and looked up at her mother expectantly as Gosalyn finished her last couple of mouthfuls. "Ehgowowmummy?" Catlyn asked, fluffing her arms restlessly.  
>"Patience, Catlyn." Gosalyn replied matter-of-factly as she stood up with her stack of dishes. She took Catlyn up into a careful hold and one handedly loaded the dishwasher.<p>

Behind her at the table Gosalyn heard her father quietly chuckling and the feathers prickled on the back of her neck. Gosalyn flushed with horror. "Oh, no ..." She turned around. "Dad," she begged. "Please don't."  
>"I'm sorry, Gosalyn. I'm completely supportive." He tried to keep a straight face. "I really am." He cleared his throat. "Go on, go see Honker. Catlyn hasn't been outdoors yet and it's such a nice day."<p>

* * *

><p>With her gigantic bag of everything slung over her shoulder and Catlyn clutched to her chest Gosalyn went next door and rang the doorbell.<br>"Hi, Gos. Uh, come on up." Honker announced as he unlocked the door.  
>"Hi, Honker."<p>

Honker opened the door properly and did a double take on Catlyn in her arms and then turned away with his wide eyes to lead Gosalyn through the hallway. As she passed the Muddlefoots' living room Gosalyn noticed it was in a complete mess.

"Someone had a party." Gosalyn remarked making Honker turn back from the staircase. "The hundred dollar question is: Why wasn't I invited?" She said unimpressed.  
>"Don't look at me; it was Tank's party." Honker hissed back at her equally unimpressed.<p>

"Let me guess, you weren't invited either?" Gosalyn asked, no longer upset.  
>"It wasn't easy to sleep through. I'm surprised you didn't hear anything." He crossed his arms in his feeling of severity. "I ought to tell Tank that he can't take his demolition job home with him if he wants to continue on subsidised rent."<br>"Uh?" Catlyn interjected.  
>"But if you clean it up before they get home from their camping trip, surely your parents won't notice?"<br>"Me!" Honker flushed red in the face with quiet frustration. "I certainly object to that."  
>"Whoa, sorry. I didn't mean you specifically, Honk-man."<br>"I'm not pushing anything." Honker resolved determinedly as he turned to the stairs and started up them. "Let it stay a mess as far as I'm concerned. It kinda proves my point."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn stepped through Honker's doorway and found his bedroom much cleaner. "Now this is better, isn't it, Catlyn?"<br>"Aeyer."  
>Gosalyn looked up at the open window. "And fresh air instead of eau de pizza."<p>

"Gosh, um ..." Honker regarded Catlyn before looking back up at Gosalyn with a raised eyebrow. "She's a bit early."  
>Gosalyn shrugged. "But anyway, here she is. Hello world."<br>"Irl." Catlyn offered.  
>"Catlyn, this is Honker, he's mummy's best friend. Honker, this is Catlyn Crimson Mallard."<br>"Catlyn." He smiled at Catlyn. "It suits her."  
>"Onga?"<br>"Hello, Catlyn." He smiled at Catlyn.  
>Gosalyn sat down on the edge of Honker's bed.<br>"What's in your bag?" Honker asked as he sat down next to her.  
>Gosalyn took a deep breath. "Everything." She ditched it on the floor rug and sat Catlyn in her lap.<p>

"She's ... got your hair." Honker stated. His eyes were fixed on Catlyn.  
>"Wanna hold her, Honker?" Gosalyn sat beside him and deposited Catlyn promptly in his arms.<br>"Oh! Gosalyn, I'm not er, uh ... that is ..." He stuttered as Catlyn adjusted herself in his lap.  
>"She's small and soft now, but she won't be for long." Gosalyn smiled down at Catlyn. "Will you, honey? You're going to grow up big and strong just like mummy."<br>Catlyn snuggled into Honker's feathers and eventually found a comfortable position.  
>"Oh my gosh."<br>"Maohm." Catlyn quacked contentedly.

"Erm, Gosalyn, I feel a little out of place here."  
>"You're perfectly in place, Honker." Gosalyn insisted, squeezing his arm. "Catlyn's got to learn the people she can trust; the people that her mother can count on." Gosalyn smiled. "And you're right in the front line."<br>Honker smiled back at Gosalyn. He looked down at Catlyn in his lap again. "I wanna say something but will I get punched for it?"  
>Gosalyn smirked. "I'll try and restrain myself. Is it about Catlyn?"<br>"Yes." Honker took a breath. "She's beautiful."  
>"Yeah." Gosalyn quietly smiled down at her daughter resting half hidden in his feathers. "She really is."<br>"There is something else since you're in such a good mood." Honker ventured.  
>"Don't push your luck too far, Honk."<br>"I know." He breathed.  
>"Thanks to my charitable nature I've been played for a song and my ego has duly sprung a leak." She took a breath. "Anyway, I thought you said your house could stay a mess and prove a point to your parents? If you want me to clean it up I'll give you two hours for thirty bucks, and I give no guarantee your mum won't notice anyway because she's a bit of a neat freak like my dad."<p>

"It's not that." He sighed. "Oh, never mind. It can wait. I'll tell Tank your going rate."  
>" 'It's not that'? Oh, come on, Honk, it's just me. Spit it out; you know I'm listening."<br>"Um ... do you remember the year ten formal last year?"  
>"I remember the punch line." Gosalyn quipped in the face of the nightmare that was. "And hey, remember those horrible shoes I kept going on about? Well, they've finally met their ending."<br>"You went home with me and Millicent in the end."  
>"Yeah. I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm sorry about Millicent."<br>"We've had this discussion, Gosalyn." Honker frowned. "You were Millicent's hero that night for sticking up for yourself; she really enjoyed your company on the ride back."  
>"Meaning she wasn't even looking at you anymore because I monopolised her attention."<br>"I didn't notice." Honker remarked quietly to himself.  
>"Huh? Oh, you're just used to it. Me. Being me. It's just a matter of time before I'm the centre of attention again."<p>

"Millicent and I are just friends." Honker said plainly. "And I don't find anything wrong with everyone looking at you instead of me."  
>"But not on a date! You could've been more than 'just friends' if it wasn't for me needing rescuing."<br>"Probability averages indicated you would need rescuing. I expected it."  
>"Am I that much of a romantic tragedy?" Gosalyn's shoulders slumped and she looked down at Catlyn. Her duckling was fatherless and that was a reflection on Gosalyn.<br>"Well. You could do with some help, Gosalyn. I think romance isn't written in a language you can easily read."  
>"Oh." Gosalyn sat back. "Bummer." She sighed. "You want to help me find my next date then?"<p>

"Sure. Recommendation one: Steelbeak is outright evil. Don't even try."  
>"Huh?" Gosalyn blinked at him.<br>"Eebee?" Catlyn piped from his lap, looking up at them.  
>"You can trust that rooster only insofar as he'll do something rotten behind your back. The reality is that you're obsessed with him only because he's a problem you can't solve. Obsession, not infatuation. He's too big to take down but that's not a reflection on you. Believe me, Gos, this isn't your failing! You can't win with him because S.H.U.S.H. doesn't give you enough backup to deal with his eggmen so you can't personally focus on bringing him in. It's not your fault S.H.U.S.H. can't deliver, but please; don't fool yourself because he's being a 'nice guy' to you. That's just the game he's playing with you. He's working for evil."<br>"Geez, Honker." Gosalyn flushed in embarrassment.  
>"Sorry, Gosalyn. But it's the truth. Your dad taught you how to deconstruct people's motivations too."<p>

"Have you got an alternative?"  
>"I have, but I think you've got to get that F.O.W.L. agent out of your system first if I didn't just hear Catlyn repeat his name when I said it." Honker looked down at Catlyn. "Steelbeak?"<br>"Eebee."  
>"Oh, whatever." Gosalyn grouched. "It's just a bunch of vowels and consonants she's mimicking."<br>"You have to deal with Steelbeak first, Gosalyn."  
>"Alright! Somehow. I've got a lot on my mind at the moment, Honk. Let me get a job first."<br>"Why not just work at the restaurant?"  
>"Because I want to rule the world and I won't get there working as a waitress!" She exclaimed. "Would you settle for being a waitress, Honk?"<p>

"I would think if being a waiter got me by while I studied to be an engineering physicist, it would suit me quite fine."  
>"It's fine alright, but I just don't wanna get caught there. I got stuck under Grizlykoff and I don't want it to happen to me ever again."<br>"I'm confident you're on the case." Honker smiled at Gosalyn. He paused, "you aren't talking about the generic world, right?"  
>"No, of course not, Honker," Gosalyn retorted, "that'd be too boring. I'd have to become mayor or be corporate or something. Blergh."<p>

"Or join F.O.W.L."  
>Gosalyn snorted. "Ri-ight. Yet another stuffy bureaucratic structure."<br>"Pbbt."  
>"Exactly, Catlyn." Gosalyn affirmed.<br>"Ah, of course." Honker gently scooped Catlyn up into his arms. "Catlyn's mummy wants to be The Quiverwing Quack."  
>"Yeah ..." Gosalyn stared at Catlyn. "Maybe if I could make it a little bit less dangerous for Catlyn's sake."<br>"I'm not sure how you could do that, Gosalyn."

He stroked Catlyn with his fingers and a very contented look grew on the duckling's face. "You'll think of something though, I'm sure."  
>"You're getting spoilt, Catlyn." Gosalyn remarked watching them both carefully. Honker didn't answer, Catlyn didn't answer. It was creepy. "It's like some big bonding session going on." Gosalyn frowned, feeling slightly jealous. "Why aren't I invited?"<br>"If you like, I can give you a hug too." Honker put Catlyn down in his lap and reached his arm around Gosalyn.  
>"You're being weird now." Gosalyn hugged him back awkwardly.<p>

* * *

><p>The conversation moved on to the best way to deal with the latest Tank issue and an even more entertaining debate on Honker's latest scientific research into how transfiguration spells worked.<p>

There was a knock on the front door suddenly reminding Gosalyn of the time.  
>"Oops." Gosalyn looked at Honker's alarm clock on his desk beside his dad's old 32cm screen, seeing that it was nearing three thirty. "That'll be for me. I've got to go."<br>"I'll get that." Honker stood up and grabbed her bag of everything from the floor and followed her out of the room.

They went down the stairs and Honker opened the door to reveal Justin standing there looking up at them.  
>"Mummy wants to know if you're coming for afternoon tea, Q."<br>Gosalyn glanced at Honker "Hey, do you want to join us, Honker?"  
>"If that's an invitation I'd be glad to accept."<br>"Huh?" Gosalyn raised an eyebrow. Honker was definitely having an off day. "Of course it was an invitation; what else would it be, Honk?" She stepped out after Justin and waited for Honker to grab the house keys and lock the door after them. He was still carrying the bag. "I can take that."  
>"It's just bulky." Honker shrugged. "I'm fine. I asked because I didn't want my presence to be misconstrued."<p>

Gosalyn held Catlyn in her arms as she and Honker followed Justin around the fence.  
>"What's misconstrued mean?" Justin twisted around and started walking backwards as he looked up at them for an answer.<br>"When people get confused and think that what you do or say means something different from your actual intentions."  
>"Oh. I get it." Justin turned back around so he was facing the right way again. "And then they make a big deal about it, right?"<p>

"Yes." Honker answered in a dull voice.

Justin jumped up onto the porch. "Could you help me feed the gnomes after tea, Honker? It's a new bag."  
>"Sure, Justin." Honker answered a bit brighter.<br>"Thank you." Justin smiled at Honker and opened the door.  
>"Are the gnomes bothering you, Honker?" Gosalyn asked.<br>"Don't worry about me, Gosalyn. Where would you like me to put this bag?"  
>"Oh ... uh ..." Gosalyn looked around the hallway. "That's a good question."<p> 


	42. Ch 5 Tea

_A/n: The subplots subtly thicken ..._

* * *

><p><strong>LEFT WING: Part 42<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Tea Talk<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Tuesday Mid Afternoon)<em>

Gosalyn looked at Honker across the formal table as everyone sat down around them, Justin beside Honker and Raya beside Gosalyn. Catlyn was up in the high chair propped up with a towel.

"I've got to invent a new job." Gosalyn announced.  
>"Where you can do your own thing?" Justin asked.<br>"Exactly." Gosalyn confirmed.  
>"Where you can be creative?" Raya asked.<br>"Yes." Gosalyn agreed.  
>"I suggest auditioning for another TV series." Honker offered.<br>"Not all that again." Gosalyn shrugged in annoyance. "It was too constrained the last time. I was barely allowed to do anything I wanted to because of the script and it was a whole bunch of standing around waiting for the action scenes. I wasn't even in some of the episodes. Plus I don't have the time for long haul jobs anymore."

"Vaudeville."  
>"What, dad?" Gosalyn blinked over at her dad on the other end of the table.<br>"My mum did it. Minus her snake act you know just about everything she knew."  
>"There's not much room for vaudeville nowadays." Honker warned.<br>"But I was in a room made just for it the other day, as a matter of fact." Gosalyn grinned as the idea caught on her imagination. "And you know what? It was fun to play someone else for a bit." She laughed. "Yeah, I think I'll see about doing that tomorrow."  
>"I knew you'd get there, Gos." Honker smiled back at her then he looked at Morgana. "Thank you for afternoon tea, Mrs. Mallard." He reached for a Squirzzle.<br>"Oh, you're very welcome, Honker." She replied.

* * *

><p>"It's nice to see you again; you've been missing quite a bit lately." Morgana mentioned.<br>"I've had things on my mind." Honker answered and looked over past Gosalyn.  
>Gosalyn glanced at Raya who he was looking at. "Honker, I don't think I've formally introduced you to the bride-to-be of Caractus Doom."<br>"I especially don't think Simon's that bad." Honker kept his eyes fixed on Raya. "I do think he may be feeling a little misunderstood. Do you think you understand him, Raya?"

"Wanna suck on this, sweetie?" Gosalyn pulled a Squirzzle apart and held it up to Catlyn's eager beak.

"Oh." Raya sighed tiredly. "I don't understand any boy except for you, daddy."  
>In a couple of goes Catlyn got almost half of the piece of Squirzzle down her front and smeared across her face but the rest of it had gone successfully into her beak. "Hungry, Catlyn?" Gosalyn gently wiped some of the smudge off with a napkin. "Want some more?"<p>

"You boys play such strange games, Honker." Raya continued. "You go backwards and forwards and around in dizzy circles and it's all very confusing. I wonder what you boys are really thinking sometimes, I really do."  
>"Raya, sweetie." Her father consoled her, "that's just called being careful."<br>"I'm not a bomb that's going to explode!" Raya objected. "But that is how Simon treats me sometimes so I guess you're right."  
>"You probably confuse him just as much, Raya." Gosalyn remarked, keeping her eyes on feeding more Squirzzle to her hungry Catlyn. "Simon's probably fluttering around, trying to figure out the best place to land and you aren't being clear on the instructions."<br>Raya sighed again. "So it all comes back to me making all the decisions again."  
>"I'm afraid so." Honker agreed. "Simon doesn't want to make a decision you're not happy with and it's hard because he doesn't know the answer himself." Honker took a breath. "So he's being careful."<p>

"He beats Fleetwood, if that's the case." Gosalyn grunted and grabbed up another Squirzzle for herself and Catlyn.  
>"Gosalyn?" Raya asked, "Why are you still so mad at Fleetwood? That was nearly a whole year ago."<br>Gosalyn turned her head away from Catlyn and looked at the platter of Squirzzles. "The answer is 'no' en-oh no, I'm not comfortable with this, can I get you a dictionary, would you like me to spell it again for you, in so many words no way, uh-uh, not happening, definitely not, who do you think I am, full stop, in plain, ordinary simple basic terms: 'no'."  
>"He didn't understand?"<br>"He didn't believe me!" Gosalyn glanced up at Raya. "Then he made some degrading remark to me for which I'm fairly sure he didn't have his brain connected when he said it. That's when I ditched him and my reason for what I did was just that one simple word: 'no' and his inability to grasp it."  
>"He doesn't sound very clever." Justin remarked.<br>"When it comes to girls, it gets hard to think sometimes." Honker warned Justin.  
>"You need to pay attention." Drake advised. "If it comes down to that one word you want to be ready to back up in case you hear it."<p>

Drake took up a Squirzzle. "But you are right, Justin, Fleetwood wasn't too bright. I would think your elder sister could find herself someone a bit more cunning and patient."  
>Gosalyn rubbed her face, her mind going back to Steelbeak leading her up twenty two flights of stairs just so he could cut off her escape. That had to be patient and cunning!<br>"Are you alright, sweetie?" Morgana asked.  
>"I was rousing on him," Gosalyn admitted, "but he went up just as many stairs as me. It's not his fault I was in high heels, it was mine."<br>"Who, hon?" Morgana asked.

"Eebee!" Catlyn quacked decisively.

Gosalyn glanced from Catlyn to Honker, feeling her face getting hot.  
>"Who else?" Honker nodded solemnly at Catlyn.<br>"Whose side are you on, Honker?" Gosalyn complained in embarrassment.  
>"Oh, uh, not Steelbeak's, that's for sure." Honker flushed and grabbed a Squirzzle, jamming it quickly in his mouth.<p>

"My kingdom for some backup." Gosalyn snorted, watching Catlyn smiling happily at her with Squirzzle all over her beak. At this moment Gosalyn realised her very next adventure would be getting Catlyn clean again. "All I wish for is backup. A boy that can back up from going too far, S.H.U.S.H. that provides backup when I've requested it, and my own best friend that can just plain back-me-up!"  
>"I'm always here for you, Gosalyn." Honker insisted, frowning at her, "but I'm not an action hero. The actual doing part is more your specialty, not mine. You're the one who's got to stand up and take the call. You're the one who's going to live with the decisions you make." He took a breath. "I'll always offer alternatives and suggest different viewpoints and point out what I see and debate it as the devil's advocate with you. I want to help you make good decisions and I'll keep on fighting you to do it."<br>"Thanks." Gosalyn croaked. "I stand corrected."

"And don't forget we're all backing you, Gos," her father added kindly, "just like you back the rest of us; even if you have to argue with us to do it." He directed his last statement at Raya. "We all want to help each other make the best decisions we can."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Reference to Avenger Penguins by Cosgrove Hall: Caractus P. Doom._


	43. Ch 5 Stain

**LEFT WING CHAPTER FIVE **

* * *

><p><strong>Stain<strong>

* * *

><p>After afternoon tea Gosalyn said goodbye to Honker at the door and took Catlyn upstairs to clean her up, pulling out a couple of fresh towels from the cupboard as she went.<br>The first thing she noticed that was different about her room was that the dark blue coloured Mallard crib was set up in the centre. "Thanks, grandpa." She went into her bathroom.  
>The washing pan for Catlyn that her grandpa had provided was sitting on the side of the sink and looked suspiciously like one of Launchpad's old brownie trays. 'Anyway.' Gosalyn sat Catlyn in the tray and started mixing up the water in the basin to the right temperature.<br>Meanwhile Catlyn was fluffing her arms, stretching up, peering intently into the mirror. "Uh? Ehyoh?"  
>"That's your reflection, baby." Gosalyn explained. "See everything you do? Your reflection in the mirror does the same in reverse? See mummy?" Gosalyn waved at Catlyn in the mirror and Catlyn turned around to look up at her in astonishment.<p>

There was enough lukewarm water in the basin now and then Gosalyn had a mental blank. "How much soap am I supposed to use?"  
>"Uh?"<br>"Oh, well, we'll just wash it off anyway." Gosalyn grabbed her bottle of feather soft shower gel and lathered it gently into Catlyn's down, drizzling a cup of water over her.  
>"Oh? Uh?"<br>"I'm just getting you clean, baby."  
>"Mum-my!" Catlyn grizzled.<br>"Am I too rough?" Gosalyn pulled her fingers away. "Are you alright, sweetie, Catlyn?"  
>"Rye?"<br>"Because ..." Gosalyn raised an eyebrow at Catlyn. "You didn't just ask me 'why' already, did you?"  
>Catlyn looked curiously down at her feet soaking in the water that had collected in the tray. "Maryemummy." Catlyn stated and Gosalyn was grateful that she didn't sound upset.<br>"You're all wet, sweetie." Gosalyn told her kindly. "Let me get your face clean. Look at mummy, sweetie." Gosalyn carefully used her fingers to rub the soapy water from the tray in and the gunk out. Then she went over Catlyn and her face with the unsoapy water from her cup. "There we are!" Gosalyn announced happily to Catlyn and put her on the fluffy towel on the other side. "Yet another glorious triumph! Your first bath." Gosalyn was beaming as she dried Catlyn's down. "You're such a good girl, Catlyn." Gosalyn told her feeling an incredible happy glow inside her. "You've done really well all day."  
>Catlyn looked up at her from the folds of towel and then let out a hefty sigh and blinked slowly.<br>"Sleepy, honey?" Gosalyn took her up into her hands. "You've had a big day."  
>Catlyn yawned and Gosalyn took her into the bedroom. She was already fast asleep when Gosalyn tucked her into the cot and brought Justin's little blue blanket up to her chin.<br>"Goodnight, baby." Gosalyn stood there watching Catlyn for a long while before noticing that she was getting sleepy as well. "I guess it's my turn for a shower and a rest."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn snapped awake to the sound of Catlyn's crying. It was the dead of night. "It's okay, it's okay, mummy's here." She fumbled for the light switch and the instant the light hit she flicked it off in pain. "Stuff the light", she fumbled around in the darkness, found the edge of the crib. "Don't cry, baby." She begged, looking down at Catlyn. "You're alright. Everything's alright." She picked her up and turning on the desk lamp went to change her nappy at her table. "There, see. All okay again." Gosalyn put her back into the crib and Catlyn started crying again. "No, Catlyn, please. It's okay. Shh." Gosalyn kept her hand covering Catlyn's chest which kept Catlyn quiet. Gosalyn found herself wishing that she had her father's voice as she compromised with her loud unsoothing voice and hummed out the lullaby instead.<p>

* * *

><p>Once Catlyn had drifted off to sleep again, Gosalyn stumbled downstairs. Right now she didn't care what time of day it was or the fact that she was dressed in her pyjamas. She flicked the kitchen light on and holding her arm across her face she latched onto the fridge like it was the big white saviour of sanity.<br>Gosalyn kept her eyes shut and groped in the fridge for the milk. She shut the door behind her and she reached into the cupboard for the cereal. Gosalyn finished loading up the bowl and carried it over to the table with a spoon. She picked up the paper.

"Oh, Gosalyn, Gosalyn!" Raya's voice shortly piped up in the sound of blind panic and horror.  
>"Uh-oh, I don't like the sound of that." Gosalyn surveyed Raya as she came in the doorway. She was holding something red in her hands. "What happened?"<br>"Please don't be mad." Raya cried. "I tried to get the stain out of your dress."  
>"What dress?" Gosalyn blinked, trying to determine at what historical point in time that she'd actually lost the thread of the tapestry of intrigue that had become her very personal life. "How did you get hold of my Quiverwing costume?"<br>"No, not that one, that's a tunic, not a dress. I mean the silver one you brought home the other week."  
>"Oh, that thing? No I'm not mad." She couldn't care less really; it was a nice dress, but "it's just a dress, Raya."<br>"Oh, so ... you don't mind that it's not silver anymore?"

Gosalyn blinked and looked at Raya. The primary schooler held out her hands and Gosalyn picked up the piece of fabric she'd dismissed earlier.  
>"You turned it ..."<br>"Instead of turning the stain back to the colour of the dress, I turned the dress the colour of the stain. By accident, of course. I got my spell backwards."  
>"Hey, this is cool, Raya. I have a new dress!" She smiled at Raya. "Come here, you little knucklehead." Gosalyn pulled her little sister up onto her lap.<p>

"You shouldn't worry so much about stuff, honey. Life goes on; don't you remember what happened to Humpty Dumpty?"  
>"That's a sad story, Q."<br>"Yeah, and that's life sometimes. The funeral dirge ends and all the kings' horses and all the kings' men go back home and try to save someone else tomorrow." Gosalyn hugged her. "There's always a tomorrow to save. That's what you need to do; look forward a few steps so you know where you're going but only take one step at a time."  
>"That's not how daddy says it. Daddy says 'all the kings and horses'."<br>"It's the social order, kiddo. To dad everyone has a job to do."  
>"The kings are supposed to be really smart to make the social order work. This social order could've caused the delay that saw baby Dumpty fall."<br>"That we will never know."

"Here's a question for you. What time is it?"  
>"Five o'clockish."<br>"Okay." Gosalyn got up and put Raya on her chair. "I'm going back to bed before the sunlight hits and I turn into a pumpkin." She picked up her bowl and rinsed it in the sink. "What're you doing up so early?"  
>"I was unhappy about the dress; I was waiting for you to wake up."<p>

Gosalyn reached into the fridge, shaking her head. "Well, you should have some breakfast, Raya." She pulled out the canister. "Juice?"  
>Raya smiled happily at her. "Oh, yes, please."<br>Gosalyn put the thermos on the table and ruffled Raya's black hair. She reached into the cupboard and put the glass on the table in front of Raya. "Thanks for looking at my dress, sis. I really appreciate your help."  
>Raya was already unscrewing the lid of the canister. "You're welcome!" She chimed.<br>Gosalyn left her to the excitement of unsurveyed, unmeasured breakfast. "Hey, Raya." Gosalyn turned for a quick moment in the doorway. "Ever thought maybe you should just ... get up a little early?"  
>Raya looked down at the empty glass in her hands. "He'd notice."<br>"So you know and he knows, so it isn't exactly a lie now, is it?"

Gosalyn grinned at Raya and returned to attending to her sleep deprived condition. "Kid's old enough to be dating boys, kid should be more than old enough to decide how much breakfast she wants."

* * *

><p>There was a sound of discomfort from the crib.<br>"Ooh dear." She picked up Catlyn. "What's the matter? What's the matter, huh?" Catlyn settled and Gosalyn moved to put her back and Catlyn began fussing again. "Well, mummy can't stand up forever..." Gosalyn thought for a moment. "How about we try you next to me like we did before you hatched and we might both get some rest?"


	44. Ch 5 Yikes

**Yikes**

* * *

><p><em>(Wednesday Morning)<em>

Gosalyn woke up two hours later that morning to a very lively Catlyn crawling out of her tucked in spot.

Catlyn clambered up onto the pillow and looked Gosalyn closely in the face with her set of dazzling bright green eyes. "Mummy!" Catlyn quacked happily at her. "Yamamummymummy!" Catlyn yammered.

It was right now that Gosalyn clearly knew one thing. Just because Catlyn was a girl didn't mean she'd be like Raya. In fact, there was nothing quiet or subtle about Catlyn.

Gosalyn yawned behind her hand and sat up. "Good morning, Catlyn, sweetie." Gosalyn regarded her daughter as she gently stroked the back of Catlyn's head. It was hard to imagine her fitting back into her egg now. "I'm sure you've grown since last night."

"Oomohneemummy!" Catlyn chimed excitedly, fluffing her arms.  
>Gosalyn rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "All that, huh?"<br>"Lehgoeeyoomummy!" Catlyn was so emphatic she tried to jump on the pillow and lost her balance on the soft surface.  
>"Whoa, whoa, easy!" Gosalyn grabbed Catlyn into her hands.<p>

"How's your nappy, honey?" Gosalyn checked her and Catlyn was fine for the moment.  
>"Ohehtaimummy."<br>"Hey, I just remembered that you haven't had anything to eat since afternoon tea yesterday. Are you hungry, baby?"  
>"Ungeemummy!" Catlyn chattered excitedly.<p>

"I guess we'll just have to find out." Gosalyn picked Catlyn up and grabbing the corner of the covers she climbed out of bed. "At least you're not crying anymore."

* * *

><p>Breakfast in the kitchen was a messy adventure with just the two of them in the silent sleeping house. Gosalyn discovered she could get Catlyn reasonably clean with a wet washer. Since Gosalyn had eaten her breakfast a couple hours earlier she just ate Catlyn's leftovers and fixed herself a drink. Gosalyn watched Catlyn in the high chair, contemplating her glass of ghoulade and wondering what her next move would be.<p>

Catlyn sighed and started fidgeting in the highchair waiting for her. Gosalyn took a large gulp. "You look bored, kiddo."  
>"Boh?"<br>"Yeah. Bored. You want action." Gosalyn finished her drink and loaded the dishwasher.

"Come on, Catlyn; let's check out the rest of your baby gear."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn scrounged a set of huge blocks from the bottom of the toy cupboard and a few of Justin's old trucks and some of Raya's old dolls for argument's sake. She put Catlyn on a blanket on the floor with them and showed her fascinated duckling how they all worked.<p>

Then while Catlyn was finally engrossed in making up a story of her own Gosalyn got up, hesitantly darting her eyes back to Catlyn as she got the suitcase onto her bed and started reorganising her cupboard and fitting the baby clothes into it.

* * *

><p>After some time there was a knock on the door. Gosalyn went to open it and Drake was there with a smile on his face.<p>

"Hey, you two, you seem happy in here."  
>"Yep." Gosalyn went and put the last T-shirt into the cupboard. "Good morning, grandpa."<br>He raised an eyebrow. "Nearly afternoon. What do you want for lunch, Gos?"  
>"Oh!" Gosalyn startled, looking at her clock radio. "A sandwich would be great, thanks-I've got to call the club and see if I can get an audition. Before it's too late."<p>

"Well now would probably be the best time to phone them. How's Catlyn?"

Gosalyn smiled and turned, hoisting Catlyn from the rug and up into her arms. "We had a little trouble sleeping in our crib last night but she's doing great." Gosalyn offered Catlyn to her grandpa and he took her into his arms with great relish.  
>"Hello there, Catlyn." He cooed at Gosalyn's duckling and glanced up at her. "There's a bottle of baby shampoo in your bathroom cupboard. It's not as strong as the one you use. It'll be a bit softer on her."<br>"Oh." Gosalyn groaned, wishing he'd told her that last night.  
>"Sorry, I thought-well, you must have been a bit overloaded yesterday." He looked back down at Catlyn in his arms, "no harm done. Catlyn's tough like her mummy, aren't you, sweetie? Yes."<p>

Gosalyn stared at the two of them, once again feeling out of the loop. "It's like this great big bonding thing going on."  
>"Aw." He grabbed her into a sideways hug. "Hugs are free. You know that."<br>Gosalyn returned the hug and then took back Catlyn. "Come on, baby, let's make that phone call."

"You'll be great, Gos." Her dad told her as they headed down the stairs, "but just one suggestion: find a stage name."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn found the number in the yellow pages and called up.<p>

"Blue Parrot Club, Maxy here."  
>"Uh?" Catlyn gaped bug eyed at the phone and Gosalyn cleared her throat, looking away from Catlyn who was actually in all innocence putting her off.<p>

"Hello, Maxy. I was looking to see if I could audition to do a stage act?"  
>"What sort of act have you got?"<br>Gosalyn hesitated, staring at the grey delicately patterned wallpaper in front of her. The blue, red, purple and green flecks in the pattern reminded her of her parents. "Singing mostly. I could do a variety act."

"So drop by anytime before four thirty this afternoon when you've made up your mind. Knock on the front door and Sheila will let you in."  
>"Uh, thanks." The phone cut off. "Gee, what was I worried about?" Gosalyn looked down at Catlyn.<p>

Catlyn looked up at her with a completely baffled look on her face and then pointed to the handset.  
>"That's the telephone, honey." Gosalyn put it back down on its cradle on the table. "Mummy was talking to someone far away with it."<br>"Effoe?"

* * *

><p>Gosalyn walked into the kitchen as her dad was just finishing setting up the midday meal for three. She double checked the maths. Morgana would still be sleeping for another couple of hours. Gosalyn knew that Raya had probably gone back to bed after her early breakfast since she'd been walking the boards with worry about the stained red dress all night. On the other hand Justin would have been up for ages. So for lunch that made Drake, Justin and Gosalyn.<p>

"I've just realised; none of us keep the same hours in this house."

"No, we don't, and you missed dinner again last night, young lady." Drake clucked his tongue at her and then took a deep breath. "Lunch-!"

"Here I am, daddy!" Justin chimed, zipping into view in the doorway. "Hello Gosalyn, hello Catlyn. Thank you, daddy!"  
>Drake beamed proudly at Justin for remembering his manners and tousled the feathers on his head. "You're welcome, Justin. Would you like some juice with your salad?"<br>"Yes, please, daddy!"

"Ees?" Catlyn peered over Gosalyn's arm at Justin.  
>"That's what you're supposed to say when you ask for something, Catlyn." Justin explained up to her. "You should always say please."<p>

"Well, I'm so glad you understand her, Justin." Gosalyn quirked. She turned and sat Catlyn into the highchair, adjusting the towel before grabbing a Gumple from the fruit bowl. "I'm just happy Catlyn's talking more than she is crying." She set to digging out the flesh of the fruit into a bowl for Catlyn.

"I bet that's just because Catlyn doesn't know how to ... what's the fancy word, daddy? The one that means to say what you mean?"  
>"Express." Drake answered. "It won't be long before she can, though. Catlyn's a quick learner like her mum, aren't you, Catlyn? You're taking every word in."<p>

"Ssspsss." Catlyn spluttered and Gosalyn put the bowl of Gumple guts on her tray. "Ma-eeseeyoomummy." Catlyn looked up at her proudly.  
>"Es-ex-press." Justin giggled. "That is a tough word, Catlyn, you're right."<br>"You eat your food, kiddo." Drake roused him gently. "They're all tough words for Catlyn right now."

Gosalyn shook her head at Justin with a smile as she sat down. She started spooning Catlyn her lunch, privately agreeing. It wouldn't be long at all and Catlyn's baby talk would actually have sense to it. Gosalyn readied the next spoonful for her duckling. Catlyn opened her beak for another mouthful and a big glob of Gumple landed on the tray.

"Catlyn, honey. I know you're excited about your lunch, but you need to swallow it down first before you have another mouthful ... or it kinda defeats the purpose." Catlyn determinedly swallowed and then opened her empty beak wide to dramatically show she was ready this time.

Gosalyn giggled. "That's it, champ; now you've got it!"


	45. Ch 5 Don't Cry

**Good Girls Don't Cry**

* * *

><p>After a messy lunch Gosalyn took Catlyn upstairs for a much needed bath. Catlyn was a lot happier with the Fluffy Duckling bath gel and enjoyed the attention.<p>

Then Gosalyn put Catlyn in her crib for safe keeping with a couple dolls and trucks. "Stay right here, baby, mummy is just going to have her shower and get clean now too."  
>Catlyn whimpered. "Nothanoomummymummy!"<p>

Catlyn started to cry.

"Oh, Catlyn." Gosalyn groaned stepping back. "Mummy's got to get ready." She sighed, lost to the heart wrenching look of misery on her daughter's face. Catlyn's teary eyes mirrored Gosalyn's own feelings. Privately Gosalyn didn't really want to part with Catlyn's company either. "Look, sweetie ..." Gosalyn negotiated, "if you're good for mummy right now and let me hurry up and get ready quickly, then I'll take you with me instead of leaving you with grandpa this time, okay?"

"Goow?"  
>"No crying, okay, Catlyn?" Gosalyn repeated firmly.<br>Catlyn sniffed, "chay."  
>"That's a good girl."<p>

Gosalyn walked back into the bathroom, hearing Catlyn resume a much quieter whimpering.

* * *

><p>Now dressed up in the red dress and a set of matching dominoes Gosalyn finished the job and cast a glamour spell on Catlyn's bag of everything to give it a temporary matching red colour scheme.<p>

Gosalyn advanced on the crib and looked down at Catlyn. "Well, what do you think of my costume, baby?"

Catlyn was tightly hugging her little blue blanket as she gaped up at her mother. She pointed up at her. "Mamummy. Magooeesmago? Ees?" Catlyn had a needy look on her face and held up her hands to be picked up.

"Yeah, come on, kiddo." She picked up Catlyn and paused to consider herself in the mirror. "Stage name ... Simply Red?" She mused as she picked out a nice red shirt for Catlyn from the cupboard. "Your middle name's Crimson so I can't be that one..." She put Catlyn down on the bed and gently pulled the shirt down over her head. "Where's your beak? Ah, there you are, Crimson. You look your part."

She grabbed Catlyn's bag of everything. "So now all we need is a nice bottle of juice for you and then we'll portal out of here."

* * *

><p>With her red dress and matching baby ensemble Scarlet knocked on the locked front door of the darkened club.<p>

The door opened and a lady fox peered out. "Oi, little red, read the sign. We're closed till five. An' children ain't allowed anyways."

"Hi, I'm Scarlet. I had an audition this afternoon arranged with Maxy?" Scarlet smiled at her. "You must be Sheila?"

Sheila sniffed at her suspiciously. "Oi, Cinderella, ya didn't mention the babe to Maxy."  
>"No, she's not part of my act," Scarlet replied calmly, "but she's been so well behaved today and it's a bit early right now for leaving her with a babysitter."<br>Sheila scrutinised Scarlet for an intense moment. "Ya know; they ain't my personal favourite."  
>"Huh?" Scarlet responded in confusion.<br>"I said: I ain't real fond of little ankle biters." Sheila pointed accusingly at Catlyn.  
>"Uh? Ma?" Catlyn babbled in confusion. "Ayerbuyer?"<br>Scarlet shrugged. "Crimson's not so bad as far as babies go. At least not today."

"It ain't none o' my business. Come on in, Mina." Sheila let her in through the door.  
>"It's Scarlet, actually."<br>"Whatever."

"I can't help but wonder, Sheila. Your accent sounds familiar. Are you from Ducklyn?"  
>"I sure am. This way."<p>

'There's a coincidence; she's from the same place as Steelbeak.' Scarlet wheeled her daughter across the deserted club, glancing over to the upturned chairs on table eight as she passed. 'Darn it, I've got to get that rooster out of my head.'

* * *

><p>A dog with a long snout met her at the stage. He was lean but not overly skinny. "Hi, I remember you." They shook hands. "I'm Maxy. What'd you say your name was?"<p>

"Scarlet." She answered deftly as she parked the stroller to the side and found a plastic keychain toy in the bag for Catlyn to play with.

"You're the one who jumped into Celoonsa's spot the other week."  
>"Yes, whatever happened to her, anyway? Is she alright?"<br>"Oh, she's the same as ever. What doesn't happen to that woman?" He rolled his eyes. "Look, Miss Scarlet, d'you reckon you can show up on time and do what you did last time?"  
>"Yes."<br>"Thinking is one thing." Maxy commented sagely. "Doing it is another. You've got your shot, darl. Make it good and I might make you regular."  
>"Yes, sir. What time, sir?"<p>

"Loosen up; this isn't a marching band. The name's Maxy and I put my amateur acts on later. Nine fifteen. Do you reckon you can handle it?"

Scarlet grinned. "That's perfect ... Maxy. That means I can come off waitressing at about eight after rush hour."  
>"Good ..." He eyed her quizzically. "Will that give you enough time to eat? I don't want you fainting on stage."<br>Scarlet blinked at him in shock. "It's plenty of time, Maxy." She answered softly. "Thank you."

"Is there something on your mind, Scarlet?"  
>"I just ... I've worked graveyard shift for the past five months. I'm still a bit shell shocked at getting laid off. Everything about that job is sort of haunting me."<br>"This gig won't clock you up much time and so there's not much in the way of money in it, I'm afraid."  
>"Certainly; it makes sense. How much is it for a night, sir?"<br>"It's Maxy." He repeated. "I give you ten on the first night just to test you out and fill in the slot, and twenty on any comeback nights."

She stared at him. "I'd better ask how long this 'slot' is."  
>"If you're trash you'll get knock off sooner, but you've got fifteen minutes if you make it good."<br>"Fifteen ... fifteen minutes? I-I'll handle it no problem. Thanks, heaps. I'll be here; I'll make it real good." She felt herself shaking with her shock.  
>"It ain't easy street. All you're getting is maybe two nights a week if you're lucky." He repeated.<br>"Yes, sir-I mean Maxy."  
>"It's small; you don't get benefits."<br>"I got benefits in my old job." Scarlet rethought the situation, "I guess that's why the pay's so high here. There's no funeral plan or hospital benefits."

"High? You're one weird chick, you know? Show up on time, do your thing, don't trip over. Y'come up to my office and you go home ten dollars richer. No catch, nothing simpler." He pointed at Catlyn. "My only issue, I'm afraid children aren't permitted in the club after eight. Can you make arrangements for her at that time?"

"Oh, yes. Easy." Morgana usually left the packing up of the restaurant to Mandy so she could get home by nine. The timing was perfect. "Yes, Maxy." She nodded to him.

* * *

><p>She wheeled Catlyn out as happy as anything. "I'll get home by ten!" She exclaimed quietly as she walked along the afternoon street. "Let's see; two nights a week if it works, that's maybe eighty a month in hand with almost no time and no expenses. I can do every dinner shift at the restaurant and study every other night." She paused, looking up the corner to the alleyway, frowning sadly to herself. "I just snapped at Grizz. Maxy is nice, the job's easy, I get to be at home on the weekend, I don't miss the dinner shift; it's perfect." She sniffed and blinked back tears. " 'Bye bye, Titanic'."<p>

"Mamummy nocwigh." Catlyn piped up from the stroller.

"You're right, Crimson. Scarlet smiled quietly. "Crying never solves anything." She continued walking in the afternoon light and stepped into the alley. Scarlet created a portal home.

It would only be by some unforseen incredibly unlikely twist of fate that Grizlykoff would ever ask for her back. 'If he did, I'd tell him ... wait, how much was my S.H.U.S.H. pay all up with the funeral plan? I dunno. I'll get Honker to look at it.' The idea of telling her best friend about her new job filled her with enthusiasm.


	46. Ch 5 Perfect

**Who Do You Call First**

* * *

><p>Gosalyn sat Catlyn down in her crib and speed-changed into her day clothes. "What time is it?" She checked her alarm clock. "Three fifty. Honker! I need Honker! Catlyn, I'll be right back!" With that she dashed out.<p>

Gosalyn ripped open the front door and careened around the fence to begin breathlessly hammering on the Muddlefoot residence's front door. "Hon-ker!"

Her best friend opened the door a few moments later. "Gos!" He grabbed her arms. "Are you alright?"  
>"Honk!" She quacked, breathless with excitement, "I need your brains!"<br>He let go of her and took a step back, eying her nervously with a suddenly suspicious expression. "Um ... have you been fighting any zombies lately?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Honk!" Gosalyn grabbed his arms and shook him lightly.

"You know as well as I do that I've been too busy with Catlyn to help dad and Launchpad over at Ghettosdale. Plus ..." She pointed out at the blue sky beyond the porch roof. "I can't be a zombie because it's still daylight, duh. I just want you to help me go over some numbers."

"Numbers? Sure, Gosalyn." Honker smiled happily at her this time around. "I'll get my things and come right over."  
>"Make it quick, Honk!" Gosalyn exclaimed, "this is huge."<br>He nodded serenely. "It usually is." He closed the door between them.

Gosalyn got back into her house hearing a familiar cry. "Catlyn! Oh, no! I just left you for a second! I'm coming!" She hurried up the stairs and raced to the crib. "Mummy's here. It's okay!" Gosalyn hushed Catlyn. "Mummy's right here."

* * *

><p>It was ten minutes later and Gosalyn was watching Honker work with paper, pencil and calculator. Catlyn was lying quietly on the bed beside them.<p>

Honker put aside his calculator and the air was thick with Gosalyn tense for the result. He cleared his throat. "On the face of it, given the two nights a week estimate actually pans out, you are getting paid less."  
>"A blind duck can see that."<br>"You get less money to spend."  
>"Yes, but?"<p>

Honker took a breath. "Giving a notional value for the funeral contingency cover and the hospital benefits-."  
>"No, Honk, wait a second. The funeral plan doesn't count! I'm seventeen! What does a stage performer need a funeral plan for? And I won't be going to hospital anytime soon. I'm a waitress and an actor, not a window washer and a construction worker."<br>"Very well." He adjusted his calculations on the sheet.

"Gosalyn, I hate to tell you this."  
>"What?" She felt her heart squeeze in her chest.<br>"If you can get the two nights a week gig, I wouldn't recommend going back to S.H.U.S.H. under the same conditions."  
>"What if I told Griz he has to double my cash in hand?"<p>

"Double's not enough, Gosalyn. You were spending almost all weekend at S.H.U.S.H., nearly every school night being on the street. You weren't just patrolling; you were doing work for them. You're still better off with the amount of time you spend to stick with vaudeville; even if you also work for one night a week as Quiverwing without being paid ... so long as you don't get hurt."

Gosalyn sank back against the wall, looking down at Catlyn who was curled up quietly on the bed beside her. Vaudeville was a comparatively safe career option offering a much better work-family lifestyle than the one she'd just been living, she acknowledged. 'I could be the perfect parent to Catlyn.'

Moments passed as Gosalyn tallied up her emotions on the subject.

"But it's not who I am, Honk." She concluded sadly. "And that kind of matters to Catlyn too. Who her mother is, what she achieves and stuff. I want to be someone Catlyn can look up to."  
>"Plus fame and fortune gets boring after a while."<br>"Yeah."

Honker sighed. "And then you always come back to-."  
>"The Quiverwing Quack." She finished. "I guess it's because it's tricky and I'm good at that."<br>"Or maybe it's because Quiverwing makes a difference that money can't buy. You're a hero, Q. That means a lot."  
>Gosalyn sighed.<br>"You really are good at what you do." Honker insisted. "I can correlate the statistics for you if it'll help."

"S'alright, Honk, the rational side of my brain agrees with you ... hey, you know, I did that S.H.U.S.H. entrance test last month?"  
>He took his glasses off and started cleaning them. "You told me. Do you think maybe S.H.U.S.H. would pay you more if you had academic accreditation?"<p>

"Ha! I'd be overdue for long service leave by the time I got that stupid bit of paper." She snorted. "For the last five months I've been chewed up and spat out every weekend, every other night ... and then I go out and deal with the criminals." Tears filled her eyes again.

"Geez, Gosalyn, don't cry." Honker's voice was filled with concern.  
>"I'm sorry, Honker." She wiped her eyes and sniffed. "I'm just feeling lousy because I haven't slept much. I can deal, I know that. Now I've got plenty of time to study and look after Catlyn."<p>

"I'd vote number one for sleep, Gos. It should help you feel better."  
>"You're preaching to the choir, Honk. Catlyn's the one you need to wrangle with over that one."<br>"She's not crying now." He stood up. "So you should try getting some sleep now."  
>"I can't; I'm helping mum at the restaurant at five thirty. Then I've got to get changed for my first, cross my fingers that it's not my only, step into the world of live entertainment."<p>

Honker shook his head. "Well, if you need a babysitter once in a while so you can get some sleep, I won't charge you for it, Gos."  
>"That's not very capitalist of you, Honker." Gosalyn lectured.<br>"I'd rather know you're getting some sleep." He leaned over the bed, contemplating Catlyn. "She really is beautiful." He straightened. A strange grin spread across his face.

"Honk? You okay?"  
>"Good luck tonight, Gos." He grabbed his calculator. "Break a leg."<br>"Thanks, Honker." She replied as he headed out the door.

After a moment she looked back to Catlyn. "Yikes, you have a weird effect on people, Catlyn." She looked up at the alarm clock. "Four forty five. Let's get all cleaned up, huh, baby?" She cooed and picked her drowsy Catlyn up. "Then mummy can be all 'nice and pretty' for the paying customers."


	47. Ch 5 Tip

**Tip**

* * *

><p><em>(Wednesday Dinnertime)<em>

"Six is up."  
>"Table seven's spilt a drink, we need a cleanup."<p>

Gosalyn stepped away from the serving counter and went to hand down table six's orders. "Here you are, sir: snake and kidney pie, and the skulked marmoset stir fry for you, madam."  
>"Oh, thank you."<br>"Mmm, lovely."  
>Gosalyn smiled at the patrons and circled over to table eight, pulling out her notepad. "Are you ready for your orders?"<br>"Uh." The patron pointed at the menu. "Is the slushroom soup gluten free?"  
>"Yes, sir. You can be sure because my father eats it and he's allergic to everything."<br>"Hmm."  
>"Can I have the broiled buzzard, please?"<br>"Certainly, ma'am. Is that the soup for you, sir?"  
>"Yes, and ah, a glass of red label white wine."<br>"Me too, let's make it a bottle."  
>"Certainly."<p>

Gosalyn cycled back through the tables to the counter.  
>"Here's the sponge. Thank you, Gos."<br>"No problems." Gosalyn smiled back at her mother and cycled around the tables again, checking for any signs of requested attention. Not for the moment. She bent over the table and cleaned up the rest of the drink, and then she knelt down and quickly did the floor so it wasn't going to be a slip hazard. Then she stood up and felt a hand slap her backside. For one second she froze.

Taking stock of the reality of the situation and who exactly she was at this exact moment Gosalyn turned around and smiled carefully at table nine. "Can I get you something, sir?"  
>"Yeah, I've heard the carrot cake is good."<br>"Oh, yes it's so good, sir, it'll knock you clear off your feet."  
>"Ah, I better not then. Gotta watch my waistline."<br>"Very good, sir, can I get you more wine?"  
>"Thanks, cheekie, more of the same."<br>She nodded. "At once." She walked off back to the counter. "Hey, mum, I need another JK shiraz and a twenty dollar surcharge for table nine."

Archie grumbled his opinion from his safe spot beside the counter.

"He might object to that, dear." Morgana said as she poured the glass.  
>"Yeah, but I can quack a lot louder than that blue beef cake if it comes to it. Besides, he's having such a good time the odds are in my favour that he might not even care." She twisted around and carried the tray with his drink back over. "Here you go, sir." She smiled at him and then turned to attend table ten, hooking the tray under her arm.<p>

The two hours were going by very fast and the food orders dwindled as eight o'clock came up. Gosalyn was serving table two when table nine got up to pay. 'Ooops; that should be me behind the counter to take that one.' "Er, sorry, a which mocktail?"  
>"Pagoola."<br>"And a chocoletta delight."

She cycled through the tables and watched as table nine fetched his wallet and handed over the money and left. She handed over the order. "What'd he say?"  
>"Nothing. That was a very good assessment, sweetheart." Morgana handed Gosalyn the twenty dollars and started making the drinks. "If it was me I feel sure I'd have turned him into pudding."<br>"Well. Gotta keep the customer happy." She petted Archie. "But I'm not ever walking away again without getting paid to do it. Stuff that for a joke." Gosalyn stated as she pocketed the extra money. "I wish I'd turned my boss into pudding like a dozen times. He so-oo deserved it. He still does."  
>"Maybe you should've. At least then if he wasn't palatable you could scrape him off into the bin and close the lid."<br>"I wish." Gosalyn laughed and picked up the tray.

"That's your last call, Gos." Morgana called after her.  
>"Okay." Gosalyn cycled through the tables and looked down at the couple. "A pagoola for you, ma'am and a chocoletta delight for you, ma'am."<br>"Oh, fantastic!"  
>"You know; I come here just for this."<br>Gosalyn grinned, reminding herself to tell her mother of this compliment. "If you want anything else, Featherika will be able to help you or you can just order at the counter. Do you want anything else right now?"  
>"No, thank you. This is all I want!"<br>"Enjoy the rest of your evening then, ladies."  
>"And you, young Gosalyn."<br>Gosalyn stepped away and back to the counter with the tray under her arm.  
>"What a nice girl." She heard the pagoola woman say behind her.<p>

Gosalyn handed in the tray. "Those two really like your drinks, mum."  
>"Oh, yes. Mrs. Klinsky and Mrs. Tilly."<br>"Wow, and here I've been working by table numbers."  
>"After a while you'll spot your regular customers. Go on now; you're going to be behind that tight schedule of yours."<br>"Nah, it's not tight, mum. It's comfortable. Love you. See you, Molly, have a good night."  
>"You too, Gosalyn." Molly called out from her current place behind the coffee machine.<p>

Gosalyn stepped through the kitchen door and portalled herself back home to her back door. 'Wow, life became so much easier once I learned how to do that.'

* * *

><p>Gosalyn unlocked the door and stepped inside. "Hello?"<br>"Hi, sweetie." Her dad had Catlyn in his arms.  
>"Hello, Catlyn, mummy's back. Has she, she's been giving you trouble?"<br>"Oh, no trouble. She just likes being cuddled, don't you, little Catlyn?" He nuzzled Catlyn's cheek then he looked up seriously to Gosalyn. "But right now I've got to check in with Launchpad." He handed her Catlyn. "I'll be back before you need to go, no worries."  
>"Sure, granddad. Thanks."<br>"I'll see you later, Catlyn."  
>"Selatah."<br>"Say bye bye to grandpa, Catlyn."  
>"Bi-ye."<br>Drake disappeared in a swirl of mist and Gosalyn turned to address the kitchen fridge.  
>"Food. I've been smelling it all night. Oh, look, carrot sticks and ... cold sausages. Hello, dinner. I'm very pleased to eat you."<br>Catlyn gurgled in amusement and Gosalyn flicked the kettle on.

"Now, what's the go, Catlyn, honey? Why won't you let your grandpa have a break? Huh?"  
>"Maloonahwah anda."<br>"Yeah all that, huh? Just try saying that with your mouth full."  
>"Mum-my, nah-ma-loo!" Catlyn said getting upset over the rising sound of the kettle.<br>"I'm sorry, Catlyn, you were being serious, I shouldn't have made a joke of it. Okay, I'll leave it alone, baby." She nuzzled Catlyn's head and the duckling settled against her again. Then Gosalyn finished one-handedly making her cup of tea and migrated to the table.

There was a pounding of tiny feet and Justin zipped into the kitchen.  
>"What are you doing, Justin; playing hide and seek?"<br>"No." Justin answered shortly.  
>A few moments later Raya appeared at the doorway, waving a book. "It's 'yo ho ho'! Not 'ho ho ho'. It's too hot for Santa Claus!"<br>Gosalyn finished chewing her carrot. "That's not necessarily true, Raya. It's hot when Santa Claus goes to visit Australia."  
>Raya glared at Gosalyn. "There's no devil's advocate in this play either."<br>"I don't wanna be a pirate!" Justin said. "Pirates are bad."  
>"It's just a play, Justin; it's just like a movie, only you're in it."<br>"Then I wanna be Mongo."  
>"Mongo?" Raya repeated, her anger disappeared immediately with her sudden surprise.<br>"Yeah; Mongo beats the pirates, hi-yah!" Justin did a Quack Fu pose. "And rescues the king's gold!"

Gosalyn quietly finished her sausage.

"Hmm, I suppose I could make allowance for Mongo in the script. But-not-Santa-Claus!" Raya sat down at the table and started scribbling in her book with a look of intense concentration on her face.  
>Gosalyn took a sip of her drink. "May I ask what you are doing, Raya?"<br>"I'm writing a play, Gosalyn."  
>"It'd be interesting to watch a pirate dressed up like Santa Claus."<br>"That's sacrilegious." Raya told her off with a severe look on her face. "Santa Claus is not a matter to be toyed with. He should be treated with the utmost respect and courtesy in all instances of fictional supplication."  
>Gosalyn blinked as something cold and wet landed on her beak. At first she thought it was Catlyn's doing, but then she realised that didn't make sense ... seeing as Catlyn was sitting in her lap ... Gosalyn looked up and saw there was a small cloud hanging over their heads. "Sis, you've got to learn how to take it easy. You're making it snow in here."<br>Raya looked up at the ceiling. "No, I'm not. That's just an itty bitty rain cloud." She waved at it and it disappeared.

Gosalyn put her cup and fork on her empty plate and picked up her small stack of dishes, carrying it over to the sink. She rinsed them and slotted them into the dishwasher. She walked by Raya who was engrossed in her scribbling again.

"Raya, you can't be serious all your life or you'll get really depressed. I'd like you to do something for me."  
>"Okay, Gosalyn?"<br>"I want you to have a long think, and find a joke you really like. You don't have to put it in your play but I want you to hold it close to your heart."  
>"It's gotta be a really good joke for me to do that." Raya frowned.<br>"Then find that really good joke, honey. Now I've got to hurry to get to the club. You two be good down here."  
>"But I wanna go upstairs and read!" Justin objected with his tiny voice.<br>"Wherever, Justin, but as for me I'm having a quick shower and getting ready for work. Just ... you behave." Gosalyn headed up the stairs with Catlyn.

"Raya, can I borrow your schoolbook?" She heard Justin's voice drifting up from the kitchen.  
>"Sure. Just put it back on the desk afterwards."<p>

Gosalyn closed her bedroom door.


	48. Ch 5 Behind

_A/N: Aladdin: Return of Jafar_

__DCM Don't Come Monday_  
><em>PS Pursue Suspect<em>_

__A/N: _Eleanor Mallard psychological extrapolation by VAPX007_

__A/N: _And now, because no one objected..._

* * *

><p><strong>Behind the Scene<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Wednesday Evening)<em>

Scarlet walked in through the alley door feeling very positive and excited with her plan for her first act.

Instead of normal roof lamps there were strings of tiny LED lights which gave the back of the Blue Parrot Club an almost enchanted feeling. They decorated the passage walls and led the way for Scarlet to the stage wing.

Dressed and ready in her matching red ensemble, she also had her usual emergency supplies that she never went anywhere without including a few smoke pellets stowed under the cuff of her left glove. She also had a wheel of fishing wire, a pocket knife and a sharpened 2B pencil all strapped invisibly to her leg. The only prop that she needed was a chair or a stool and she found a whole stack of spare wooden chairs in a quiet corner of the backstage area.

To get the idea for her act Scarlet had dusted off her memories of those few little stories her father had told her over the years about his mother, Eleanor Mallard, otherwise known as the family vaudeville queen. Eleanor Mallard, his stories ran, was ever eloquent and perfectly poised on stage. She had never dropped a line and always stayed in character. Sometimes she played a refined Grande Madame of the centre stage resplendent in her silk and faux fur ensemble but there was nothing stopping her next time from playing a cheeky burlesque crowd pleaser wearing a dress that was one part sequins, two parts satin and five parts pom pom. Scarlet had seen one of those dresses on the changing rack the first time she'd come in here. But so far she hadn't seen anyone lugging around a carpet snake.

Having never sat in the audience to just watch these acts and get a feel for the usual shtick, Scarlet realised she could be heckled off stage within two minutes of showing her face. Zero detective work meant it was anything up to one hundred percent chance of failure. There'd been no time to do any of that happy stuff, like ... market research. And if the clockwork perfect couple 'walking on air' on the stage were all the audience wanted to watch, Scarlet was doomed.

No. She reassured herself. This was a variety show, and this was the time of night that the fresh amateurs were on. The later the act the more forgiving an audience out for an evening of entertainment generally were. Plus the bouncers were pretty proactive in this fancy place.

But at the same time, those dancers were just so good.

'Forget them.' She told herself. Scarlet had something different for the Blue Parrot Club patrons. Eleanor Mallard had taught only one person how to do her act and now, decades later Scarlet was holding a similar near-bottomless bag of rare tricks standing right where her grandmother had stood. There was something about that notion that promised her good luck with this venture. Scarlet tried to imagine Eleanor's voice for a moment and heard her father's voice echo in her head instead; dark and firm; reassuring her against her irrational fears and vanquishing the rational ones.

But then a mental image of bright fluorescent overhead lights flashed across her mind, the square windows of the S.H.U.S.H. office block, the overloaded In Tray that she always discovered on her return to her table. The niggling sense of doom in the pit of her stomach that there was something pointless in what she was doing. Getting passed fleeting skeptical looks from her father certainly hadn't helped. She'd only noticed him doing that since she'd told him S.H.U.S.H. had her tailing Steelbeak. He especially didn't help when she'd told Darkwing about Operation Steelbeak, when he'd replied with 'if you think you should, honey'. He'd said it in such a weak voice with an incredibly washed out facial expression that Quiverwing had to ask him if someone had hijacked his brain because it wasn't remotely like his usual enthusiastic reply. That last question had gotten a normal sharp response, but Darkwing still stubbornly refused to get in on the topic of Steelbeak and to this day had never explained why.

But if Darkwing Duck knew The Quiverwing Quack was on a wild goose chase he would have warned her. He was such a stubborn character about things that mattered that he'd argue beyond the point that it mattered to anyone else but him. Scarlet smiled slightly, relaxing. Following Steelbeak and filing all those forms was maybe, possibly useful. Hooter had taught her how procedures helped to corner the criminal on the legal front and helped get them to stay in jail. Scarlet shut her eyes tightly, fighting off nausea. Faultless filing of evidence eventuated easy guilty convictions. It was true. Of course it was the right thing to be doing. Of course so.

But just not the way Grizlykoff had been getting her to do it.

Scarlet glanced back down the corridor at the glitter of fairy lights. The enchanted feeling she'd gotten from them earlier was gone. Maybe her memories of one of the dreariest disenchanting places on the whole entire planet working for one of the top ten most unimaginative and unfriendly overlords in living existence had decayed some part of her spirit.

Or maybe it was just because thanks to Grizlykoff The Quiverwing Quack was now reduced from an upstanding heroine to a stand up comedian. All because the new Director didn't like her ... arrows.

The up-doed dancing duo performed their last doe'ce'doe and bowed, their dentures twinkling whitely under the hot lights, their smiling grimaces as though permanently etched onto their faces and the top hat still remained perfectly straight. Scarlet wondered suddenly if he were maybe a puppet with the thing glued down over his crown. She glanced up into the rafters looking for control strings. There weren't any. 'Cats; that would have been cool.'

The audience clapped; some politely and some with a little more enthusiasm. All in all, the sound of applause filled the room. Judging by that, Scarlet's job now was to try and engender an equal or greater reaction.

She walked out onto the stage, and sat the chair down beside her. One look out at the sea of dark faces and her mind went blank.

* * *

><p>After the cool gloom of the stage wing the bright lights overhead were warm on Scarlet's face. She tapped the microphone and the feedback echoed across the room and for a split second she fought to remember what the heck she was meant to be doing. There was a waitress walking around pleasantly taking drink orders. The tables just in front of the stage were circular and at them sat restless patrons trying to grab the waitress's attention.<p>

Looking down at the front row of round tables and patrons, her memory snapped back into place. She remembered her first line. "Hi, the name's Scarlet." She announced in a loud slightly sarcastic voice, "I just thought I'd put it out there. I know it's a pretty obvious name given the colour scheme I decided to go with. But I thought it'd be a bit too weird if I came out here dressed in red and then said 'hi, the name's Saffron'." She stepped back holding the microphone, listening to the almost mute audience. She pointed up at one of the lights beaming down and spelled the colour blue, and then she gestured to the air beside her, making believe her imaginary twin was sitting there beside her on the blue tinged chair. "And, this is my sister Cyan; together we're the Primary sisters." There was a weak laugh from somewhere in the pit of tables before her. Scarlet felt weak just in hearing it. "Well;" she grunted, "my last audience thought it was funny. Mental note for next time: don't practice your jokes on the preschooler."  
>That got a spurt of laughs across the room and she instantly felt better.<p>

"So, I bet you're wondering: what's a girl like me doing on a stage like this?" She took a breath, watching the waitress coming back around to the tables, delivering drinks. "The truth is that I got fired the other day."  
>There was a heartfelt 'oh' from a commiserating soul somewhere in the left.<br>"Yeah, I'm still in shock stage. You know you're in shock stage when any of the following questions keep dogging you: 'How did this happen?' 'What the heck just happened?' and the extremely terrifying question you'll be having is 'Great Scott now what?'." She squawked each question in alarm and then carried on snappily. "Getting fired for the first time is a historic occasion and I'm not above asking for advice, so I was hoping maybe I could compare notes with some of you? Tell me, how might your boss fire you?" She held out her hand to the audience for an answer.

There was a lot of hubbub behind the raised dividing banister and in the vicinity of the bar area located at the front of the club. Because of that, the response Scarlet got was barely audible. "A fax?" She repeated the murmured response, pointing at the person who offered the suggestion.  
>She caught another response in the pit right in front of the stage.<br>"... What someone posted on face book."  
>She pointed at the other audience responder. "A long-winded email centered on the evils of face book. That's great." She turned to the other side of the dark silhouette filled audience space, "Just think that it could have been worse. You could have had my boss." She spoke warningly to the audience. "Not my boss. Oh, no, you wouldn't want him to fire you. Your methods would be considered too kind." She paused dramatically. "As far as dictating tyrants go this one ... well, I'll let you judge for yourself. His speech went something like this."<p>

* * *

><p>First she cast a spell to change the spotlight to red and turned out all the other lights. Then she put a music spell on the sound system and it started up with teasing violins. After that was going she threw down a half strength smoke tablet to create a small haze, not enough to disappear in but enough for creating a haze with the red light. Using the chair she transfigured it into a magician's hat and put it on her head.<p>

Scarlet started to sing, putting on a haughty condescending tone.

_"I must admit,_  
><em>Your parlor tricks are amusing."<em>

While she sang she magicked up a bunch of flowers in her hands and flung them up over the audience so they'd shower down. That startled quite a few of the audience members. She kept singing, hoping they were being startled in a good way.

_"I bet you've got a bunny_  
><em>Under your hat!<em>

She lifted up the magician's hat and the rabbit jumped straight down off her head, onto the stage and dashed off into the audience. They all twisted to try and find where it had vanished. That was a slightly distracting variable so she quickly put the hat back on her head, shook off the question, and continued powering on with the music.

_"Now here's your chance_  
><em>To get the best of me,<em>  
><em>"Hope your hand is hot!"<em>

Scarlet conjured flames over her hand; illustrating the line of the song. That grabbed the audience's attention right back as heads turned straight back to face the stage. Then she did a glamour straight afterwards, making her dress appear to the audience to be a clown costume.

_"C'mon, clown,_  
><em>Let's see what you've got!"<em>

She made the music roar like a lion for a moment before returning to normal, speeding up a fraction.

_"You think your cat's a meanie,_  
><em>But your tiger's tame<em>

_You've got a lot to learn_  
><em>About the living game<em>  
><em>So for your information,<em>  
><em>I'll reiterate<em>  
><em>You're only second rate!"<em>

She let the music slow down again, then she generated lightning in her hands and sent out small sparks over the heads of the audience who were mildly murmuring with amazed 'how did she do that' looks on their shadowy faces.

_"Men cower at the power_  
><em>In my pinky<em>  
><em>My thumb is number one<em>  
><em>On every list"<em>

It actually felt empowering to make fun of Grizlykoff, knowing the last thing he could do was conjure lightning. She grabbed the microphone.

_"But if you're not convinced_  
><em>That I'm invincible, <em>  
><em>Put me to the test!<em>  
><em>I'd love to lay this rivalry to rest!"<em>

She grabbed the microphone again with a maniacal laugh and continued on, adding more savagery in her voice as the music sped up again.

_"You know, your hocus-pocus_  
><em>Isn't tough enough<em>  
><em>And your mumbo-jumbo<em>  
><em>Doesn't measure up<em>  
><em>Let me pontificate<em>  
><em>Upon your sorry state<em>  
><em>You're only second rate!"<em>

She glamoured a cape and flourished it.

_"So spare me your tremendous scare!"_

She fritzed the glamour and turned her clothes to appear to be rags. She growled out the next line, feeling anger boiling up from the arrogant uncompromising ignorance of this character she was portraying.

_"You look horrendous in your underwear!_  
><em>And I can hardly wait<em>  
><em>To discombobulate"<em>

She made the image of a wooden crate drop down silently onto the stage and splinter into fragments.

_"I'll send ya back and packing _  
><em>In a shipping crate!"<em>

She transfigured the hat into a stick and glamoured a plate spinning on it. She was every bit the outered hero that her dad was.

_"You'll make a better living_  
><em>With a spinning plate!<em>

_You're only second rate!"_

As the music crashed from a crescendo to a deep growling stop Scarlet snatched the plate from the tip of the stick. A better living! Painfully true. Not the life she wanted to lead. But it was a better living. This way she might even 'have' a life.

Scarlet threw the plate up into the air, turned it into a shower of gold glitter and then transfigured the stick back into the chair. So much truth and oh, but how personal Grizlykoff's jibe was to completely dismiss any 'unconventional' approach to any situation! The End. She stood there on the stage and watched the glitter slowly vanish back into non-existence a few moments after it landed on the audience.

There was silence in the room and then an explosion of applause started up. "Huh, it must've been the spinning plate." Scarlet grunted to herself beneath the din.

She blinked up at the audience and cleared her throat as the noise died down.

"That was the abridged version. His actual speech took two hours." That brought an easy laugh.

* * *

><p>Scarlet continued on in a snappy voice like the song hadn't happened. "You know the worst part about this whole suddenly-jobless affair is the cold turkey problem." She pulled the microphone off the stand and ran her fingers nervously through her hair, making herself shake. "Aw, man. Don't even think about it. Don't ... I said, you don't wanna think about it man! Hey, turn off the alarm clock and go back to sleep, man. No, no, there's nothin' to do, man, where're you goin? Yeh ain't got no place to be!" She turned around again. "Aw, man I gotta have it, I just gotta." She leaned forward. "Aw, please, come on, you gotta gimme! ... I ... need ..." She collapsed onto her knees and put her hands together like she was praying and raised her addict voice to a crescendo. "Job security!"<p>

She stood back up and took a step aside, looking down at the stage where she'd just been kneeling, taking on a tough guy voice and posture, a contemptuous sneer on her face. Another person. "Them's the breaks, bub. What're'ya waiting for; a long service payout? Now git! What, yeh still here? You pathetic sniveling wretch yeh should'a been gone five seconds ago." She pointed back over her shoulder with an air of unsympathetic disgust.

The audience was split on that. 'Yeah.' 'Exactly' said some along with grunts of approval for the tough guy attitude but there were quite a few people who didn't like it. "I'm okay, guys; I didn't come up here looking for a support group." There was a widespread laugh.

Scarlet turned back to the audience. "What does 'job security' mean in the modern world anyway? Nobody has it these days it's like some extinct species. One day you're working at a desk filling out form 239PS in triplicate, the next day you get a signed copy of a 25DCM. 'Waol, I gis it's back to ye ole lemonade stand for me'." She paused, realising something as the audience laughed. "You know, I made a killing at the lemonade stand racket. Being my own boss, you know, it was great. I only worked so long as it was hot and I got the rest of the time off." Some odd patron over back behind the banister whooped at that. "See, he knows what I'm talking about." Most of the seated audience sniggered.

"Oh. And here's another thing about that crummy job I just lost ..." She blinked and looked behind her and staggered, then she pointed behind her in make-believe shock. "Whoa, did you ... did you just see? Johnny, Johnny!" She glamoured a set of legs over at the stage left wing. She had them walk onto the stage and stop beside her, the knee just over her head. She looked up at the roof above them. "Johnny, when did you get to be sixteen foot three, Johnny? Did I go on a time trip or something?" She shook her head and turned back to the audience. "I don't get it, what just happened, folks? Yesterday he was a preschooler eating books; suddenly today he's got a graduate diploma in literature. What's missing in this picture?" She looked down at the front row. "Oh, that's right; me! Nope, nope, not the Twilight Zone, it's just another case of idiot workaholism." She looked around the fairly quiet audience. "I've just offended half a dozen people here but you know what, I'm not sorry; honey, get yourself out." She pointed in the audience's direction. "It's killing you, man; you don't need it, any more than you need a trip through the Twilight Zone." She gestured to the Johnny legs and then made the glamour walk off the stage and disappear.

Scarlet looked up over the audience as the red light started blinking at her. "Thanks, folks, you've been a great audience. Get yourselves home safely and if that turncoat bunny turns up at some point later on tonight ... tell him not to come in on Monday coz he's fired." She bowed and walked off the stage.  
>The applause was almost deafening.<p> 


	49. Ch 5 Incentive

_A/n: Now with improved _English_..._

* * *

><p><strong>Incentive<strong>

* * *

><p>As she was going upstairs to see Maxy, Scarlet got a tap on her shoulder.<p>

"There's a bloke in the audience asking for you." The suited up act announcer told her.  
>Scarlet froze for a moment, looking down at the short brown haired rat. "Table Eight?"<br>"Yeah. You know him?"  
>"No, of course not. It was just a lucky guess. Tell him ... I'll be with him shortly."<p>

"Well, that was entirely expected." Scarlet snorted, continuing on upstairs. "Considering I used this outfit the other week to get his feathers and Steelbeak easily figured me out then."

Scarlet knocked on the manager's door feeling slightly feverish. If Steelbeak got too keen about her, her whole life content would be F.O.W.L.'s playground.

"Come in." Maxy's voice called and she opened the door and went in.

* * *

><p>Maxy was sitting on his balcony seat looking through the panoramic window down at the stage across the hall. The sound of drums and bass guitar filtered through the speakers that were hanging from the corners of the ceiling in here.<p>

The club manager turned his head to Scarlet. "How'd you do that with the chair?"  
>Scarlet smiled quietly. "A magician never reveals his tricks. But don't worry: it's back in one piece."<br>"I've had magicians here plenty of times." He handed her the tenner. "I even know a few tricks for myself."  
>Scarlet hesitated. "So, uh ... do you want me in again?"<br>He nodded. "Sorry. Yes. I should have said that first. Wednesdays, and Fridays if you're up for it ... there's a five extra dollars in it." He half smiled. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in teaching me a trick or two?"

Scarlet frowned, thinking quickly. One, her magic skills weren't tricks, they were tools. Two, she also considered, such information could be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands. Three, thinking about wrong hands, she didn't even really know Maxy.

"I'm sorry I've given you the wrong impression by using my uh 'tricks' in this way but I really can't do that."  
>He blinked at her. "Sure, okay, no problem."<p>

* * *

><p>Under the thunder of drums and bass guitar Scarlet edged her way through the pit to the back row under the overhanging palm fronds. She looked down at the enemy and smiled.<p>

"Steely, I never would have guessed."  
>The felon chuckled. "Nah, toots, I never would have guessed." He leaned back against the bench seat. Above and behind was the banister that divided the sections and the potted tropical plants created a formidable screen with their fronds against the rest of the club. Steelbeak stretched his arms along the back of the upholstered chair. "How's it going?"<p>

Scarlet took that as an open invitation and sat down in the chair opposite him. "What am I; going off like a fire alarm?"  
>"More like fireworks." He chortled. "So?"<p>

"Hey, you know, feeling like you're breaking even is always a good thing." She looked down at the glass of white wine in front of the rooster, wondering where the other glasses for his eggmen were, or had he been here alone all night?

"Hey, you want a drink?"  
>"On account of last time I think I'll skip."<br>"Oh, no, you need it. Here." He took a sip and handed her his own glass. "Have mine." He grinned at her as he sat back again.

Scarlet put the glass down on the table without putting it near her beak. One, she thought, she was legally not old enough to drink. Get killed fighting wars but not drink. Two, last time she'd had a tot of wine, it'd made her skittish. She'd jumped three feet out of her feathers when that Neanderthal fox jumped her in the alley out the back of the club and that wasn't a reaction she liked having. Three, even though she'd hung up her cape she still needed to be an upstanding role model for Catlyn and under age drinking wasn't in the display category. Four, her dad didn't so she straight didn't. "I have at least three more reasons not to accept and all of them are on my account, Steely. Thanks, but no."

"I reckon Maxy will take you on regular. You're a tough act to follow. It's lucky them boys make a good interval." He pointed to the stage.

On the stage the ducks were playing drums and bass for a melody playing on a portable jukebox.

"Yeah, they're not bad even being just the two of them."

Steelbeak leaned forwards. "Was that on account of me you lost your job, Red, coz of the camera I set up?"  
>Scarlet snorted. "Don't flatter yourself, cockerel! He was singing that song from the moment he took over. It was just now I chose to snap." She prodded the table. "I didn't stick around waiting for the 25DCM to get filed. I'd had a beak-full."<p>

"He's been going at you that long? I didn't figure that." The henchman whistled. "Your old man cain't handle five hours with that goon, let alone five months. I can give you a personal vouch on that one. Setting them off against each other is kid stuff."

Scarlet blinked at him. "Thank you, I think." She hesitated a smile. "Actually that's not a good thing. I've gotta be picking a role model and my old man can be a bit of a jerk but Grizlykoff is a jerk all of the time. Plus on account of brain atrophy I wish I'd pulled that plug wa-ay earlier." She rubbed her face. Every time she was around Steelbeak too long she started picking up his Ducklyn accent.

"It's okay, toots. You ain't lost it yet. What you've gotta get in your head is that you are the puppeteer, and he's the puppet." He held out his hand and imitated the movements as if there was a doll attached to his fingers by strings. Scarlet stared at the space beneath his fingers. "That's what gets me by with my lot. You're the guy." He pointed at her. "So you ain't the topmost guy; you've gonna keep your dancing shoes on, but I can tell you straight you ain't no two-bit side-show phony."

"You're a snake." Scarlet smiled, feeling her face flush hot with the compliment. "What are you after?"  
>"Now, why's it gotta be that I'm after something?" He responded in a hurt expression, leaning backwards. "Why cain't it be that I just like seeing you smile again?"<br>"Coz that'd be a half truth, Steely," she said in a matter-of-fact voice. "I make them off the cuff so I know what they look like. But you got me on this one coz you ain't half wrong in what you saying."

"You make half lies off the cuff, eh?"  
>"Yeah?"<br>"Heh, nothing. I just wanted to hear you say it again." He chortled to himself.

"It's a piece to hear a half-truth for myself though." She leaned forwards over the wine glass, taking it by the stem, toying her finger around the rim, keeping her eyes locked on Steelbeak; her source of entertainment for the evening. "What's he up to? Where's he trying to move me with this? It gets better, don't it? Because the rest of it's legit. What you've said."

He leaned forwards across the table to meet her. "Three guesses as to why that is, cheree."  
>"Coz you want me to do something and you cain't tell me straight or you think I wouldn't do it."<br>"It ain't just the thinking." He raised an eyebrow. "I ain't born yesterday; I cain't tell you straight coz I know you're still straight."  
>"Hey; you're playing my game here. I've been snagging extra cookies for years." She leaned back triumphantly in her chair.<p>

"But you ain't told me what I'm trying for."  
>"What?" She said in a pouting voice. "I have to figure it all out right now? Can't I go home and play with it for a little bit first? Have a fun little session of rampant paranoia and maybe even some celery mangling?"<br>Steelbeak leaned back against the chair again, laughing. "Oh, suit yourself, sweet cheeks, so you don't think it's ticking."

"Oh, I know it's ticking alright, but it's ticking slo-ow." She remarked. "I'd be dumb-as not to take that last statement as a warning and I'd be sheer Griz-tefied to think you couldn't switch my track."

"I grant you you're not that far gone, doll face. So what are you gonna do?"  
>"Do? Done. Did, has-been." She sparked her fingers, sending the wine to a blue flame in the glass, burning off the alcohol.<p>

Steelbeak shrugged. "I tell you, that deadbeat act of yours ain't gonna last much longer than your lady act."  
>Scarlet blinked innocently at him. "You see through me, do you, Steely?"<br>"Oh, please." He snorted. "You crime fighters don't turn off. You feel too deeply. You care too much just like your ol' man."

Scarlet shrugged. "Yeah, so?"

Steelbeak rubbed the back of his neck with a slightly bemused expression. "Your tough guy act is set in marble and polished to a diamond finish. But you reckon all your sore feelings for that overgrown floor rug have good and painted right over it." He shook his head. "You're a complete nutcase."  
>Scarlet shrugged, not fazed with his conclusion. "Thanks. I'd hate to be anything in the remote vicinity of normal."<p>

* * *

><p>"I'm no detective, Chiquita. I don't get high on it like you caped do-gooders do. But there's this one question that's been bugging me-."<p>

"Only one? I think it must be lonely. I could share a couple of mine if you like."

"No, really I'm fine. I just wanna know one thing." He twirled his fingers in the air. "What's with all of the magic, babe-arella, and why ain't you never used it before?"

Scarlet gaped at him. "You have got to be kidding me! Steelbeak, that's your lone piranha? Gimme a break. Have you never checked out a dictionary in your life? It's called 'Modus Operandi'. Google it and learn something about yourself as well. If I did all my tricks on stage there wouldn't be a club left for the next act to play in."

"Yeesh, cool yeh tail feathers, sweetheart."

Scarlet sighed and lowered her eyes. "There's a time and a place is what I'm saying." She took a breath. "I'm sorry for shouting at you."  
>"No sweat," Steelbeak replied, relaxing again, "I'm the bad guy. I've got it coming to me all of the time."<br>"That's a dream coz it sure ain't true this round. You were just curious and I've got Grizlykoff playing on a loop track in my head." She rubbed her temple.

"In the end it's a big empty room and I'm just shouting at the walls."

"Look, I ain't got no violins to play you."  
>"Thanks, Steely, that's a round of torture I didn't want."<br>He chortled. "And like you said, 'them's the breaks'."  
>"Coincidentally it was your voice I was hearing. It's weird how I keep having these heart to hearts with criminal scum."<p>

"That's coz you like a tough guy to lean on and your old man ain't the hard and fast on the rule."  
>She smiled quietly to herself. "I love it the way you feel so safe calling him my 'old man', but the minute someone calls him something else, you break into a cold sweat."<br>"You don't call him so much anymore, I've noticed."  
>"I've got my thing down." She shrugged, not wanting to admit she hadn't felt like he wanted to get in on catching Steelbeak. "Anyway, I was doing the job for them guys so I was kind of expecting them to give me backup." She glanced up sharply at him. "But definitely ... not ... the violin kind."<br>He chortled at that.

"You ain't no ordinary dame no matter what name you're going under."  
>"What's the punch line, Steely?" Scarlet prompted feeling mildly frustrated.<p>

He leaned forwards. "I wanna hear your voice." He spoke in a soft tone. From under the cuff of his sleeve he dropped a rolled up stick of money into the glass in front of her and stood up. "I gotta go, doll face."  
>"What's this for, exactly?"<br>He bent low towards her ear slit. "That's so you think seriously about it." He moved past her and weaved through the tables and up the stairs.

Scarlet picked up the roll, undoing the rubber band. "Two hundred dollars." She sat there blankly staring at over a month's worth of wages suddenly in front of her eyes.


	50. Ch 5 Gig

**Gig**

* * *

><p>"Hey. Excuse me, hi?" The owner of the voice was male, young, close by and the pleasantly delivered query seemed to be directed at her.<p>

Scarlet blinked back into focus and saw two young ducks standing at the table and recognised them as the musicians that had been up on stage after her.

She quickly stashed the money in the sleeve of her glove. "Can I help you guys?"

The pair dressed in T-shirts that doubled as advertising billboards for Duck Soup and KuKu Cola took the opening and sat down in the place Steelbeak had been sitting. "We saw your act from the wing. I'm Jon Crowder."  
>"I'm Steve Ducklet."<br>"I liked your act." Scarlet told them. "You've got good sound but I can't help but wonder 'what happened to the rest of your band'?"  
>"It didn't quite happen." Ducklet shrugged wearily, casting a glance at his partner. Meanwhile the expression on Crowder's face suggested to Scarlet that the extended version was a long and dramatic tale full of emotional turmoil and angst best saved for another time. Or on second thoughts, Scarlet checked her training in criminal psychology; this could well be Jon Crowder's regular expression. Either way the guy obviously had some personal issues to work through.<br>"Anyway, great job covering with the jukebox." Scarlet gave her feedback with an absent-minded shrug, her mind returning to her interview with Steelbeak only moments ago.

* * *

><p>Steelbeak had given her plenty to think about. If Grizlykoff was a puppet then who was his puppeteer? And who indeed was the puppet master? Once again Scarlet felt that inkling of a conspiracy afoot. There certainly was something weird going on, Steelbeak was right about that much. Maybe there was a double agent in the clockwork. Whatever was up, it was being really quiet about it. Hooter must have been extradited because he'd figured it out. It was a perfect motive for removing The Quiverwing Quack from active duty ... of course, why hadn't she seen it before? She was a loose puppet trained to dance to a different beat; unable to keep in perfect unison with the others.<p>

"So yeah; we were wondering if you can play lead."  
>"I've never had a problem taking the lead;" Scarlet waved her hand dismissively, "my problem was following orders. Sit tight, shut up, yes, sir, no sir three bags full, sir, and be all goody goody two shoes-boy, I'm tired of being told what to do. I'm not an automaton; I think for myself."<br>"Uh, okay." Ducklet glanced at Crowder.  
>Crowder leaned forward. "Some people actually think we live in a democracy where everyone thinks for themselves."<br>"Ants with delusions." Scarlet snorted. "There's always gonna be a guy in charge of you."

The two ducks looked at each other. They apparently seemed a bit confused. "Uh, how'd you like the idea of having a chance to score a better paying gig?" Crowder asked.  
>"You know; hitting the big time?"<br>Scarlet blinked at them, lost somewhere between F.O.W.L. and S.H.U.S.H. and were these guys from another outfit? "Boys, let me set you wise. It doesn't matter because I am a has-been. I'll get my DCM tomorrow to make it official that my career is over."  
>"But you've never done a gig with us. You've got a good voice. Together we might make it."<p>

* * *

><p>"Voice?" Scarlet finally accepted the reality that these were just musicians talking about a music gig. "Wait, you want me to join your band?"<br>"Sure. What were you talking about?" Crowder asked.  
>"Uh ... never mind." Scarlet shook her head. "I was on the wrong channel. Go on. What are you after?"<p>

"You see, we're missing a lead guitarist" Ducklet explained.  
>"You mean you want me to play a guitar?"<br>"Yes."  
>"D'you mean ... like ... one with strings?"<br>"So I guess you don't play lead." Crowder sat back. "So we kind 'a still need a fourth player."  
>"D'you know anyone who can play lead guitar, Scarlet?" Ducklet asked hopefully.<p>

* * *

><p>A vision of Honker instantly flashed through Scarlet's mind. He was a lead guitarist. He was also great at it. The only problem with Honker was his ego always needed a little help. The first thing to avoid was giving him something that he felt was a hand down. He'd have to prove to himself that he could do it, as usual. "Why not have an audition? We can put up a few flyers; we can make it the best lead player for us."<br>The guys grinned at her. "So you in?" Ducklet asked.  
>"I like your stuff; I think we could make it happen."<p>

* * *

><p>Scarlet leaned back, turning her head to the stage as the ventriloquist received a round of applause. "Gosh, is that another act finished? I've gotta get home."<br>"Hey!" Crowder handed her a piece of paper. "There's my email address and face book page name."  
>"Sorry, I don't have any accounts. Can we meet up say Friday at two? How about at Joleen's? You know it?"<br>"Sure, no problems. Seriously, you don't have email? What about a phone number?"  
>"Sorry." She gave him a half smile. "But I don't actually exist, you see." She stood up. "See you Friday."<p> 


	51. Ch 6 Storyteller

**Left Wing: Part 51**

* * *

><p>CHAPTER SIX<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Storyteller<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Late Wednesday Evening)<em>

Scarlet stepped out through the alley door and through the portal back home. She unlocked the back door and walked in, hearing her father's voice speaking in narrative.

"Two large boxes wrapped in pink and yellow paper popped out of the other end of the giant automatic gift wrapping machine. With a wriggle the brightly coloured packages hopped off the conveyor belt and onto the floor of the Sunnybank warehouse.  
>'So that piratical powered up pixie in charge of these paltry puppets thinks my pond's a plushy place to park his pandemonium, eh?' Darkwing Duck's voice sounded slightly muffled as he said this; his voice was coming from the smaller pink package. A moment later his head erupted through the top, making a hole in the lid of his box. He stood to attention in front of the machine; the look on his face was grim and menacing as he glared into the distance at the door where the criminal's henchmen had long since escaped. 'Well, this evil is going to get evicted now that Darkwing Duck is on the case!' The Midnight Mallard said in a very game voice."<p>

Scarlet looked into the lounge room and saw her dad sitting with Catlyn, reading her something out of his handwritten case files like he'd done for her when she'd been little and couldn't sleep. Catlyn was patting her grandfather's arm urgently. "Anda, awpahocheay?"

Drake Mallard continued on. "His side kick and best friend Launchpad's head burst out of the top of the giant yellow box standing beside him. 'Phew, DW, that was a close one.' The air ace had a giant yellow bow on his head and his leather booted feet stuck out from the bottom of the big yellow box."

Catlyn gurgled in relieved amusement and Scarlet smiled warmly. Even if Catlyn was too young to understand all of his words or figure out the social lessons, Drake Mallard had a real knack for slapstick humour and funny voices.

" 'Did we fool them? I'd hate to have one of them f-follow me home ... yikes!'  
>'Don't worry, Launchpad, we got out of their way before they got interested in us. Nevertheless, LP, I'm not planning on hiding from these scurrilous scumbags for too long.'<br>'Heh, sure, DW,' DW was the nickname Launchpad liked to use for the caped crime fighter by the way, 'sure, DW, but don't you think that maybe we might need some back up for this one? We're kind of outnumbered a hundred to one.'

" 'Hey, hey, we're still here, aren't we?' Darkwing Duck objected, feeling hurt. He frowned at Launchpad's words, gritting his teeth. 'I'm just getting warmed up on this case.'  
>'Hey, DW, I'm not interested in playing hide and seek with these criminals forever either. But maybe some backup couldn't hurt. What about the National Guard?'<br>'The National Guard!' Darkwing repeated in an upset voice, but then he recovered and verbally patted his sidekick on the shoulder. 'Launchpad, Launchpad, Launchpad. Many does not make mighty. And that is our prime advantage over G'Tyler.'  
>Launchpad raised an eyebrow in confusion. 'I dunno, DW, they looked pretty tough to me. One tough guy is easy to take down. Maybe even five we can dupe. But we're talking like a whole army here. And they're really mean!'<br>'Launchpad, I-can-handle-it!' Darkwing growled feeling his feathers prickling at his sidekick's observation."

"Anda, ahwefieying?" Catlyn interrupted. "Awpahwong?"

"Oh, uh, no, well, um, you see, Catlyn ... Launchpad was right. I mean; not about the National Guard; they wouldn't be able to do much to help, but these were very bad guys, very tough and definitely a fierce crowd. Darkwing might be a force to be reckoned with but really he couldn't take on G'Tyler's horde of servants all by himself. So yeah, Launchpad was right about that. The truth may be right, Catlyn, but that doesn't always make it good and it especially doesn't mean Darkwing had to like it. Asking someone for help was one thing Darkwing Duck did not like to do. Darkwing Duck felt that having someone helping him maybe somehow proved he was weak and helpless-."

"Ahbahawpah!" Catlyn's tiny voice interrupted the dark intonation of the story teller.

"Well, that's very true, Catlyn." Drake Mallard stated. "He does have Launchpad to help him, so he has started to learn-."

"Ahbahwapipah?"

"Yes, they're still wrapped up in the paper; I was just getting to-look, who's telling this story: me or you, little lady?"

There was a moment's pause. "Anda?"

"Just as I suspected." Catlyn's grandfather cleared his throat, "now, as I was saying, Darkwing Duck was cranky with the idea that he needed help to stop the evil G'Tyler and his multitude of mindless mobsters. He ripped himself free of the wrapping paper.  
>'All I need to do is formulate a plan ...' Then he ripped open Launchpad's box.<br>'Gee, thanks, DW.' Launchpad said in relief, 'Christmas morning's still three months away.' Launchpad usually saw the humour in these situation, 'I wasn't sure I could wait that long.'  
>Darkwing looked up at his trusty side kick in mild confusion. 'I think in this case we can make an exception, Launchpad.' "<p>

"Hey, granddad, I'm sorry to interrupt. But do you want a drink? Cocoa?"

"No thanks, hon; you fix yourself."

With a nostalgic smile Scarlet flicked the kettle on and went upstairs to change identities and get into her pyjamas, listening as her father's voice followed her up the stairs. She always loved her dad's stories and she hadn't heard this one before.

" 'Do you think maybe we should call in S.H.U.S.H., DW?' Launchpad was twice Darkwing's width and literally towered over him in height but he still looked very worried about facing this criminal alone.  
>'What's the big idea, Launchpad, don't you think I can solve this case on my own?' Darkwing continued to reject the idea that he needed help.<p>

"But the stunt pilot just looked back down at the masked mallard with an understanding smile on his face. 'Of course you don't 'need' help, DW,' Launchpad calmly reassured him, 'but remember: a problem shared is a problem halved ... and there's a lot of these puppets to share us around.' Launchpad's voice always had a gentle tone, even when he was acting tough. Darkwing could never stay too mad at him for very long simply because Launchpad didn't have a mean bone in his body. However with all that goodwill and well-meaning intentions Launchpad could be really irritating sometimes.  
>'Thank you, Launchpad.' Darkwing's temper had settled down and all he was feeling was annoyance; 'I'll keep the suggestion in mind.'<p>

The kettle sound rose over his voice and Scarlet closed the bedroom door. No doubt Launchpad would help Darkwing come up with a solution to this case. Drake Mallard's Darkwing Duck stories always had happy endings.


	52. Ch 6 Lead

_Happy Halloween_

* * *

><p><strong>Lead<strong>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn brought her night's earning's back downstairs with her. By this time Drake had stopped narrating and Catlyn was fast asleep in his arms.<br>Gosalyn fixed herself a cocoa and then came in and sat down beside her dad. Catlyn looked so peaceful asleep in his arms.

In fact ... Gosalyn eyed Catlyn who was completely zonked out at this moment with sneaking suspicion and a creeping guilt ... like Gosalyn had dumped her motherly duty on Catlyn's grandparents and then spent extra time away just so she could enjoy getting sweet-talked by a career criminal. "Thanks, grandpa. Has she been trouble for you? She hasn't been screaming all this time while I've been gone, has she, dad?"  
>"Only when her grandmother or I have tried to put her down to get some housework done."<br>"Oh, dear." Gosalyn sighed.  
>"Yeah-she likes being where the action is for some odd reason." He smirked at her.<br>"Da-ad." She smiled into her cocoa in embarrassment and took a mouthful.

Gosalyn looked up a moment later and her dad's cheesy grin had faded into a keen thoughtful gleam again. Gosalyn paused and glanced at the page notes in front of him on the coffee table. "How's the zombie case going?"  
>"Zombies? Oh, they're beheaded and buried." It was another case occupying his mind then.<br>"Need help on your new case?"  
>"No, Launchpad's already cracked it. Now it's just up to me to figure out how to put his idea into a proper action plan where we win and survive..."<br>Gosalyn nodded in understanding. "Gotcha. Well, you know who to call for last minute back up. I'm sure Honk won't mind looking after Catlyn for a few hours under those-."  
>"Undoubtedly. He doesn't mind coming around to help us out. He's a good kid."<p>

He shook his head. "I haven't asked you how your night went."  
>"It was definitely different." She replied, putting down her mug. "I had a windfall." She pulled out the sum of her takings for the night from her pyjama pocket and put it on the table next to her mug. Then she reached and took Catlyn into her arms. "Ten I expected, plus two hundred and an offer to join a serious rock band." Catlyn sighed sleepily and quickly resettled in Gosalyn's arms. "You looked so natural holding her."<br>"You're doing fine." Her father assured her. "A rock band should be fun for you ... But are you getting Honker in on it?" Drake asked in some parental concern; "if it were possible I'd say he's been studying a bit too hard lately- I'm starting to worry about him."  
>'Honk studying too hard? Yeah, that doesn't take imagination to see that.' Gosalyn grinned at her dad as she picked up her mug again to finish her cocoa off. "We're going to have auditions for a lead guitarist."<br>"An audition? But what if he doesn't make the cut?"  
>"Seriously, dad?" Scarlet sipped her cocoa. "Have you actually heard Honker play?"<br>"Well..."

"And I'd be really surprised if he doesn't snag this gig. Honker's great but you know he just doesn't believe in himself. He's a scientist. He likes proof. Like going into a competition and winning sort of proof."  
>"Are you sure you're not talking about a certain crime fighter named The Quiverwing Quack? I seem to recall-."<br>"Oh, come on, dad, you've seen it. Honker never thinks he does a good job until he has to fight for it."  
>"My point is that some fights can't be guaranteed, hon; especially not those with even odds."<br>Gosalyn shook her head and sighed. "You're right. I guess I was just going with my feelings; it just felt better doing it that way."  
>Drake squeezed her shoulder. "I sure as heck wouldn't ignore your gut instinct."<br>Gosalyn felt weird, like maybe he was going extra easy on her. 'Does he feel like I need a break? Wasn't that what Steelbeak was suggesting earlier?'

"Hey, dad. Do you reckon The Quiverwing Quack's all washed up?"  
>Drake frowned at her. "I don't get why. Quiverwing hasn't done anything but an outstanding job in my opinion. Why do you ask?"<br>She nodded at the money on the table. "You haven't asked me what the extra two hundred was for."  
>"Unlike Grizlykoff," Drake spoke haughtily, "I trust you to do the right thing because that's what I've taught you and that's what I expect from my own daughter ..." He paused. "That-of-course doesn't-stop-me from-being-curious to-the-point where-my-sanity might come-in-to-question."<p>

Gosalyn took a quiet breath and said honestly: "Steelbeak wants me to 'think about it'."

"Steelbe-!" Her dad jumped up and turned to her. "That sneaky underhanded snake-I'm-gonna ... Gosalyn! There's nothing...! Oh, my gosh, to even think ..."  
>"Da-ad! I can't keep sponging off you."<br>"We're-doing-fine!" He insisted, imploring her. "You help your mum out at the restaurant, you help with the chores, and you look after the kids when both of us have to work. It's the effort that's the thing and you know we're fine financially. I know you want to say you can look after yourself. It's your thing, I've got it. But why don't you wait till Catlyn's a few years old before you try to be Miss Independent, Holder of the Sacred Trellis of rose again?" He picked up the money, waving it at her. "This isn't right!"

Moments passed as Gosalyn reeled back at the emotional strength in his statement, watching him almost visibly steaming. "It's a chalice, dad." Gosalyn corrected him, working to sober him up. "The title is 'Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed'. Have you been gardening again?" Gosalyn took the money back from him. "The job was just to seriously think about it. So I am. Seriously."  
>"So what's your Miss Independent conclusion?" He crossed his arms in disapproval.<br>"My conclusion, dad, is that I must've been completely out of my tree since the fireworks factory to have given Steelbeak that impression."  
>"Correction," Drake waggled his finger at her, "it's only since then that you've noticed. You've been tailing him five months and obsessing about him for four." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Ludicrous; I've never had to tail one outfit for so long as five months. Even if they walk back out that door again, I've at least broken up their party and brought them in for a visit to the station."<br>"The point was to get the charges to stick, dad!" Gosalyn retorted. "Either you deal with the bad guy over and over again or you deal with the paperwork and bring him in once."

Drake frowned quietly at her. "Don't let's get back into that argument."  
>"But it works, dad! F.O.W.L. is too big to do it piecemeal."<br>"You can do it S.H.U.S.H.'S way, I can't. Can we give it a rest?"  
>"Tell me it doesn't have merit, dad. It's a choice between a hundred tiny skirmishes where your store of cannonballs and gunpowder are slowly frittered away and you're on your last agent or one big showdown at Deadman's cove with all hands on deck."<br>He blinked at her. "You're still feeling guilty because you think you sabotaged the mission by destroying your own surveillance van. That's what this is actually about, isn't it?"  
>"Seriously, dad, I don't mind the chiding."<br>"Gosalyn, sweetie-pie, what do you want me to say about it that I haven't already said?" He asked weakly.  
>"Anything, dad!" Gosalyn begged. "I've just realised tonight that we've barely spoken a word about work since Grizlykoff took over and shifted me to F.O.W.L. surveillance. Tell me something, dad; help-me!"<p>

"Mummynussy." Catlyn mumbled and Gosalyn stood up to rock her.  
>"Sorry, Catlyn, mummy woke you, you go back to sleep."<p>

"Gos, I can't remember how many times that I've told you. What use is watching a crook if he knows he's being watched? Steelbeak plays to the camera for his bosses so why wouldn't he do it for your surveillance crew? Nothing in that van was going to make a conviction. I promise you. You had nothing on him. Don't you think J Gander Hooter would've thought of that one already? Sweetie, if it were as easy as following a common procedure wouldn't Hooter have gotten Griz onto it years ago?"  
>Gosalyn sank back into the sofa. "So what I've been doing really was useless."<p>

"Nothing is useless if you survive it and learn something about avoiding the same sort of trouble in the future."

His words felt reassuring. "Thanks, dad." Gosalyn hugged him. "But Steelbeak has made me give a serious think about it. Is The Quiverwing Quack washed up?"  
>"Sweetie, I've walked off that S.H.U.S.H. job nearly a dozen times. Almost every single time it was because of Grizlykoff and Steelbeak is using the same friction between Grizlykoff and you to manipulate you."<br>"There's nothing left to manipulate, dad." Gosalyn disagreed, sitting back, feeling miserable again. "I'm a little match girl and I've run out of matches. Don't curse the hallucination; Steelbeak's acting up to me is a heck of a lot nicer than the reality of Grizlykoff."  
>"Okay, kid. Just so long as you remember that he is 'acting up' to you." He growled disapprovingly.<br>"Funny, those are the same words you tell me whenever I bring a new boyfriend home." She grunted feeling suspicious.  
>Her father sighed. "Not being able to get along with Grizlykoff is not the end of the world, sweetie-pie." He smiled reassuringly, "they need you, honey. S.H.U.S.H is going to ask for you back."<p>

"That reminds me. I've got a call back, dad. I'm booked Wednesdays and I'm getting a five dollar surcharge to do Fridays. I've asked for the same slot and Maxy's given it to me. Plus I'm meeting Crowder and Ducklet Friday in town at two to discuss getting those audition flyers sorted out."

Drake paused. "That's not the call back I was talking about."  
>"Look, Dad, throw in my time at the restaurant which is every night that I'm needed and I'm sky high to compare to the deal S.H.U.S.H. was giving me."<br>"Oh, sure." He mocked bitterly. "And if you were bait on a hook you'd still be wondering which one was the better deal." He analogized unhappily. "But when you look at the-."  
>"The rock band will take more work but if it pans out I'd be getting quite a bit of money out of it so it's like an investment."<br>"Music is something you've always been interested in. But Gos, honey, you've studied so hard to be-."  
>"My life is working again without S.H.U.S.H. and I can't jump every time Grizlykoff calls me like I used to because of Catlyn and I figure she's afraid I will and that's why she cries so much. So when it comes down to the wire, there's not enough hours in the day to deal with both Grizlykoff and Catlyn as well as look after myself enough to be able to be a rational person. They're both babies and Catlyn's the one that I'm responsible for and that's the way it has to be." Gosalyn looked down in her arms at her groggy duckling. "So you don't have to cry, Catlyn, because Mummy's not going back to Grizlykoff; mummy's staying right here to take care of you."<p>

Gosalyn looked up and her father's facial expression was just like he'd just done an intro line to an empty alley.  
>"So what are you going to do with the extra two hundred?" He changed the subject.<br>"I think I'll spend some of it on a new outfit so I can alternate. And coffee for my business discussion. Oh, yeah, and I should bring paper to draft the flyer." She smiled at him. "I can see my way through this. This is good."  
>"Sweetie." Her father leaned forward and kissed her forehead, ruffling her fringe. "You were the last one to know." He straightened. "I'd better get back to work. Launchpad needs to get home himself."<br>"I'll try and get in by ten from now on."  
>"Gosalyn. Just to remind you; we don't work a S.H.U.S.H. regiment in this household; we work on what's reasonable. We always have." He folded his arms. "I should know, I was there arguing over what was 'reasonable' with you more times than I could count when you were growing up."<br>"Yeah, dad, I dig it." She smiled as he sat down on one of the armchairs in the corner and spun out of sight.

* * *

><p><em>Quoted from Lwaxana Troi - Star Trek: The Next Generation<em>


	53. Ch 6 Unknown

**Unknown**

* * *

><p>It was twenty past one on Thursday morning when Gosalyn woke hearing Catlyn give out a distressed cry. Gosalyn went to the crib and picked her up. "What's the matter, Catlyn?"<br>As soon as Catlyn was up in her mother's arms her sobs faded. Gosalyn did a quick nappy check and found that was not the problem. "Hungry then, sweetie?"

Gosalyn went downstairs and found Morgana busy in the kitchen. "Hi, grandma." She acknowledged the vast array of herbs spread out over the table and Morgana's all-in-one enchanted spellbook. "Hi Quacky."

"Hello, dear." Her mother and the enchanted book smiled at her as Gosalyn grabbed Catlyn's bottle from the cupboard.

"Nofangoofohthomummy." Catlyn shook her head, patting her mother's arm.  
>Gosalyn stopped, feeling stricken at Catlyn's rejection of food. "Then what do you want? Catlyn, tell mummy; what do you need?" Gosalyn was tired and tears threatened as Catlyn gazed back up at her silently. Gosalyn looked up at her own mother. "I don't know what else could be wrong."<br>"I-I don't know, dear. Let me see." Morgana took Catlyn into her arms. Catlyn stared quietly up at her grandmother. "Catlyn seems fine right now."  
>"This keeps happening." Gosalyn reported disheartened. "She gets two or three hours in and wakes up in a fit."<br>"Perhaps it could be stomach cramps?" Quacky offered from his stand. "This sort of thing affects Normal babies quite a bit, you know."  
>"Gastro-intestinal dysfunction?" Morgana looked down thoughtfully at Catlyn. "No; that's not it." Morgana disagreed. "Catlyn's tummy is all happy, isn't it, darling?" Morgana cooed into the duckling's ear, rubbing her middle. "There's nothing in her aura to suggest an illness at least that can be Seen."<br>"What's wrong, baby, why did you wake up crying?"  
>"Madonna mummy." Catlyn said sadly.<br>Gosalyn regarded Catlyn as her baby girl looked back at her. "There doesn't seem anything physically wrong?" She asked Morgana for confirmation.  
>"Well, I think it would be best if you got a proper cleric's opinion, but your father and I both agree that Catlyn seems to need more physical contact than Raya and Justin did."<br>Gosalyn felt a flash of fear that Catlyn would turn into a spoiled brat. "What Catlyn needs is to learn that she can't get everything her way all the time." Gosalyn countered the idea firmly. "She has to learn to sleep in her own bed just like all the other babies do." Gosalyn took her daughter back.

"I'm sure Catlyn will learn all about the reasons for rules and such, dear." Morgana reassured Gosalyn. "You are very much your father."  
>Gosalyn paused recalling the case file on the coffee table earlier and her poor dad who sometimes needed more help than he dared to admit. "Is he alright with his latest case?"<br>Morgana frowned fractionally. "Well; I should say he has found his plan." She averted her eyes and turned back to her cauldron.

Gosalyn looked over the ingredients on the table. Morgana was working on a classic protection spell. "That bad, huh?"  
>"Oh, don't panic, honey. Luck favours the prepared and so that is what I'm doing."<p>

"Come on, Catlyn. If you're not hungry then it's time to let mummy get back to sleep." Gosalyn looked back to Morgana. "Say goodnight to grandma, Catlyn."  
>"Ooniyammah." Catlyn waved.<br>"Goodnight, Catlyn. Pleasant dreams."

'Dreams.' Gosalyn treaded up the stairs. 'There's an idea.' "Are you having bad dreams, Catlyn? Are there bad pictures in your head while you sleep?"  
>Catlyn pointed to the master bedroom as they passed. "Arweedahbadeefahbageye." Catlyn smiled cheerily up at Gosalyn.<br>Gosalyn was extra tired but Catlyn's smile was still refreshing. "That's the way, honey; think happy thoughts. Fall asleep on happy tho-." Gosalyn yawned and started rocking Catlyn in front of her crib, humming her off to sleep once again before putting her down.

* * *

><p>The next morning Gosalyn was ready to go shopping for her new jobs. Gosalyn had had another night of broken sleep with Catlyn and felt every bit of it. She sat taking a moment to try to figure it out as Catlyn was entertained with sucking messily on an unmashed watermelon chunk. It wasn't a cry for food or a cry for a nappy change ... besides which Catlyn had words for them, and even though Gosalyn might not understand straight away, Catlyn would keep chattering plaintively until Gosalyn guessed right. It was a mystery. Why would Catlyn wake up in the middle of the night crying until she was picked up and had to fall asleep in Gosalyn's arms again?<p>

Raya softly interrupted her midmorning bleary eyed stare. "Don't go out today, Gosalyn." She grabbed Gosalyn's waist for a hug.  
>"Did you have a nightmare?"<br>Judging by the continuing tight grip and Raya's down turned head she figured the answer was yes. "Please."  
>"Alright." Gosalyn took a breath, changing her plan for the day as she petted Raya's hair. "I can go early tomorrow instead and get the dress and phone in the same trip. Since I'm not going anywhere right now, why don't you come and talk to me?"<p>

Raya sat down on the chair beside her. "Yes, Gosalyn?"  
>"Did you think about what I asked you?"<br>Raya raised an eyebrow. "About what?"  
>"About finding a good joke."<br>"Oh!" This time Raya nodded solemnly. "Yes and I found one! And it goes: I'm a Mallard: the joke's on them." There was a glimmer of keen determination in Raya's dark eyes that filled Gosalyn with a nice warm confident feeling.  
>Gosalyn grinned and hooked an arm around Raya. "That's my kid sister." She snorted in good humour; "secretly spirited."<p>

* * *

><p>It was not long after a standard uneventful lunch and Gosalyn sat on the bunny rug with her tiny duckling in the centre of the lounge room floor.<p>

"Gosalyn?"  
>Gosalyn looked up from her school book to her father's voice. She suppressed a yawn. "Yeah, dad?"<br>"I'm just taking Raya to the doctor." At that moment Raya came down the stairs and went to his side. "We'll be back in about an hour or so. Will you be alright here to look after Justin?"  
>"Sure, dad. He's no problem. Uh, where is he at the moment?"<br>"Out the back. I've told him that if he needs any help, you're on duty."  
>"Ready and able." Gosalyn saluted him as she sat on the floor, bright, colourful baby toys on one side and her dreaded history book on the other.<br>Her father nodded somewhat solemnly and then turned to Raya. "Let's go, Raya, sweetie."

The door closed behind them and Gosalyn returned her attention to Catlyn, keeping an ear out for trouble as the sound of the car engine faded into the distance. "1480 to 1834. Yeah, yeah I get you, Mr. Spanish Inquisition."

* * *

><p>After several minutes of relative peace Gosalyn looked back to Catlyn and her baby girl was missing. "Catlyn!" Gosalyn darted her eyes around the room to the movement and saw Catlyn crawling into the hallway. Gosalyn took a breath. It was okay. There was only the hall stand in there and that was pretty sturdy made in some antique solid oak wood and it had withstood a lot worse than just a baby's handling. A bunch of shoes ... But then there was the front door. It was closed but Catlyn was probably curious about where her aunt and grandfather had gone. Gosalyn got up and went after her. Catlyn was standing, propping herself up using the door, whilst trying to reach the very high up doorknob.<br>"No outside without mummy, sweetie." Gosalyn's voice startled Catlyn and she fell backwards onto her nappy on the inside door mat. Unfazed, Catlyn pointed up at the door knob, "Mummy." She exclaimed in excitement. "Oi!"  
>"Oi?" Catlyn's vocabulary was the sum of all the words she'd heard being spoken around her. "... Boy?" Gosalyn jolted on the interpretation, feeling her hair and feathers all standing up on end. She whisked Catlyn away from the door.<br>Catlyn squawked in objection, still reaching for the handle. "Oi!"

"I-don't-think-so!" Gosalyn's voice echoed in the tiled hall for a moment; dark, ominous and scary.

"... Oimummy?" Catlyn asked in a soft sad little voice on the verge of tears, pointing back at the door.  
>"No, Catlyn." Gosalyn insisted sternly, unable to back down, not really wanting to. She returned Catlyn to the rug and knelt down in front of her so she could explain her reasoning face to face. "No boys, Catlyn. You are far too little for all that nonsense."<p> 


	54. Ch 6 Doorstep

_A/n: There is no accounting for taste but I love this._

* * *

><p><strong>On The Doorstep<strong>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn found the place in her textbook where she'd left off. Catlyn got over her mother's stern words with the discovery that hitting one block onto another made a surprising clanging sound and she was enjoying her noisy new game immensely.<p>

There was a knock on the front door.  
>Gosalyn grumbled as she got up. 'The life of a crime fighter is never easy.' She reminded herself. 'Especially not when on child-and-house-minding duty.'<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn got to the entry hall and opened the door to a small shrub. A veritable medium sized version of his father, the little plant-duck blinked up at her from beneath a head of vibrant purple coloured petals.<p>

'It's-a-Bushroot!' She blinked, stepping back in shock, her muscles automatically clenching in tensile response.

For a moment she questioned herself on what about the youngster was setting off her crime-fighting instincts. What was it about this boy? The expression on his face? He had a wide-eyed innocent, unassuming child look. Or was it instead that same 'calm before the storm' look his father often got? When things went pear-shaped for him Reginald would wreak absolute plant pandemonium and she had an instinctive feeling that this face belied someone just as capable of becoming a formidable opponent at will.

'And he's on my doorstep!'

* * *

><p>"Hello. I'm Simon. Is Raya in?"<br>'Raya.' Her mind switched tracks. "Um, no." She was just Raya's big sister today. Gosalyn Mallard. And anyway she needed actual evidence before she could draw such a condemning conclusion that her suspicions were correct and this Simon was indeed 'up-to-something'. "You've only just missed her."

"Oh, okay. Will she be back before dark with time to still go for a walk?"  
>"Well ... I guess so." They were only going to be an hour or so at the doctors and it wasn't a crime for him to want to see the person he was dating. "It's early enough now."<br>"Oh, that's good. Then I can wait for her." Without any more warning the boy promptly swerved around her and stepped in through the gap between her and the doorway.

"Whoa!" She gasped in shock, whirling around at the unexpected intrusion. 'Darn, my one weakness: playing goalie!' Gosalyn cursed in mild surprise, 'Honker would've been able to get the littlie.'

"It is alright that I wait for her, isn't it?" Simon asked belatedly.

"What?" Gosalyn felt a little numb as the unabashed little shrub blinked at her from a few feet away, standing in the doorway to the lounge room. He'd moved in as bold as brass and as swift as a double-web-kick and now he was attempting courtesy ... but still ... he didn't seem to realise he was standing between her and Catlyn; between Gosalyn and her daughter.

'Calm down, Q. He's just a little boy. All he's after is ...' She frowned. 'My-kid-sister!' Her protective instinct kicked in again and she sized him up.

Simon came up taller than Raya against the door frame but on second thoughts Raya was genuinely short for her age so that wasn't his fault. In fact Raya had mentioned that they were in the same grade so really Gosalyn couldn't object that he was too old for her. "Well, since you asked so politely you may come in, Simon. But for future reference the best way to do it is to ask if you can come in before you do it."  
>"Okay." He gazed up at her without a shred of embarrassment. "Thank you for telling me. I'll remember that."<p>

* * *

><p>'He is a rather pushy little boy.' Gosalyn mused critically over his actions as she closed the door. "Simon, I'm sorry to say but Raya may be quite some time."<br>"So long as there is some time left before dark then that would be fine." Simon insisted. "You see I promised my Dad I'd be more careful. He gets very upset when I'm late getting home." Simon took a breath. "Although I don't understand why."  
>"He just wants to keep you safe." 'And out of trouble.' Gosalyn rubbed her head as Simon blinked at her.<br>"But I've gotten hurt while it's day time." Simon disagreed.  
>"Well it's more dangerous at night then." Gosalyn argued back. "Especially for children."<br>Simon looked like he was going to say something else in another rebuttal but then he just frowned.

"So you'd get upset too?"  
>Gosalyn looked beyond Simon to Catlyn alone on the rug. Her baby was busy digging through the small pile of assorted toys. Gosalyn felt her protective instincts flaring at the idea of Catlyn being out on her own. "... I'd be super-upset. It's not just that it's night or day. It's that I can't be sure she's alright."<p>

"Oh." Simon blinked at her, "you'd have a bad feeling?"  
>"You can bet. It's called worry. You heard of that one?"<br>"Heaps." Simon muttered. "I thought it was just my dad's thing about me."  
>"I think you'll find it's a parent thing."<p>

* * *

><p>Catlyn had found two toys in the pile that she liked and was taking them for a walk - or rather crawl - around the rug.<p>

At some point Gosalyn needed to get through that doorway Simon was standing in. "It might be a bit boring until Raya comes back, Simon."

"I've never been quite sure what people mean by that word." Simon's eyes were definitely green.  
>"Which word is that, Simon?"<br>"Bored." He answered. "How can your mind be so disengaged from your surroundings that you can get bored?"  
>"Disengaged. That's a big word for a little boy." Gosalyn commented, distracted as Catlyn paused in her game to investigate Gosalyn's schoolbook.<br>"That's just how mum explained it. It's never happened to me."  
>"Excuse me, Simon. I need to get past."<br>"Oh, sorry." Simon quickly side-stepped so Gosalyn could get back to Catlyn.

Gosalyn picked Catlyn up and resettled her in front of the pile of toys, handing her back the car and the ballerina doll. Then she turned back to readdress Simon.

"It's the interval between one thing and the next thing. It's time, Simon. It gets boring just waiting doing nothing."  
>"But you're never just doing nothing while you wait." He objected. "You're breathing, and digesting, and thinking about people and the things that are happening in your life..."<br>Gosalyn couldn't be sure about the rest of the Bushroot children but this Simon was certainly a contrary sort.

"Have you ever been in a doctor's clinic, Simon? It's a whole bunch of waiting around and the place is a virtual vacuum of entertainment!" Gosalyn retorted acidly, thinking on where her kid sister was right now. "There's very little to think about other than trying to keep calm."  
>"Well, that's not a good place to be." He narrowed his eyes at her. "But when you are there in this terrible place are you alone?"<br>"You can be on your own. That's probably a better way of describing it."  
>Simon shook his head. "If I was on my own in a doctor's clinic, I would be thinking over the events in my life that had led me to such an unfavourable outcome. I would be thinking very hard on a way to get myself out of there."<br>"I'm with you, but when you're sick, kid, you do find you're stuck there." Gosalyn paused. "It's not that bad really. Doctors save lives. I'd prefer to go see a doctor if it'll keep me from dying."  
>"If you're sick you should try boosting your immune system." He started counting on his leafy fingers. "Try eating something good for you. And drink lots of water. And have a good night's sleep." He nodded seriously. "These are the things that make me feel well again."<br>" 'Immune system' says the child of molecular biology science geeks." Gosalyn shook her head. "Who can argue with that?"

* * *

><p>Gosalyn knelt down beside Catlyn who was busy playing 'conversation' with a matchbox car and a doll three times its size. The doll was the one doing most of the talking and the car was paying rapt attention.<p>

However much Gosalyn liked dabbling in science she was no geek about it. But Honker was real clever at that stuff. Maybe by getting Catlyn to spend some time with him some of Honker's cleverness would rub off on her.

Trying to be clever herself Gosalyn pulled out a robot doll from the pile and offered it to Catlyn, hoping to get the ugly blonde-haired doll dressed in a pink tutu away from her. Catlyn loved the robot instantly and hugged it to her but the moment Gosalyn reached for the dropped ballerina Catlyn grabbed it back protectively. Gosalyn paused. 'Well, that didn't work.' She reached instead for the little car.  
>"Mum-my!" Catlyn complained vocally and Gosalyn left the car alone.<br>"Okay, sweetie, but can mummy tidy up the blocks at least? Come on; can Catlyn help mummy tidy up the toys you're not playing with right now?"  
>Catlyn nodded and helped her mother push the rest of the toys back into a pile. Then Gosalyn handed Catlyn back her three chosen toys. Catlyn smiled up at her as she hugged them to her chest.<br>"See; now you've got more room to play." Gosalyn smiled back, smoothing down Catlyn's hair. She got herself comfortable, dragging forward her textbook.

Catlyn crawled closer to snuggle beside her with a soft sigh.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn turned her mind back to Simon and looked up. He was still standing there in the doorway to the lounge room. Oddly, he hadn't taken a step further in.<p>

"Apply all the common sense tactics you like, Simon, and I wish you the best of luck avoiding the other stuff out there that can make you sick. Sometimes there's not a thing you can do."  
>"Other stuff. That you can't fix?"<br>"You didn't know that? You could fall down from playing on the monkey bars one day at school and break your arm."  
>"But that heals itself." He looked down at his leafy hand.<br>"It could heal crooked if the doctor doesn't take a look at it."

There was a look of horror on his face at that idea.

"It's true for us people with bones. What about catching something contagious like the bubonic plague? Oh, I know: leaf lice. That's something you can get if you're not careful."  
>"Not me; I'm a repellant plant." He shook his head. "If you have a problem, I'll sit next to you for a couple of weeks and you'll be feeling much better."<br>Gosalyn snorted. This kid's untouchable attitude was getting mildly infuriating. "I suppose you scare off butterflies too."  
>"I'm not terribly edible; that's true."<br>"Okay ... so what about damp?"  
>He sighed. "You're thinking about root rot?"<br>"There's one."  
>"No, because if I get uncomfortable I just move somewhere drier."<br>"Hey, so you've cornered the plant domain." Gosalyn snorted, mock-congratulating him. "I guess you're pretty indestructible then. It's just the rest of us that catch colds and suffer root rot."

She looked back down at Catlyn. Unfortunately, like Raya and Drake, Catlyn and Gosalyn were also destined for a trip to the doctors soon themselves. Catlyn needed to be registered and Gosalyn wanted to find out why Catlyn wasn't sleeping as well as Raya and Justin had at her age. It could be a perfectly 'Normal' thing, but there was no way for Gosalyn to tell what that was.

* * *

><p>"But ... what can I do to help a sick person?"<br>"Huh?" Gosalyn looked back up at Simon. His youthful face had such a sincere, heart-felt expression. "I thought you said you just had to sit next to them?"  
>Simon hung his head. "It doesn't work for every sickness." He looked up at her. "I want to know what I can do to ... help-." He gulped down his last word. "I really want to ... help."<p>

Gosalyn felt a wrench in her gut and an ugly feeling inside her. The keenness in Simon's voice and the emotional levy told her this was not a discussion about a future career in health care and community services. It was solely about Raya who he knew very well was sick.

"I'm sorry, Simon." Gosalyn responded sadly. "It's a very noble thought, but in the end I guess we're on our own to get ourselves well again." She answered truthfully. "Maybe, if you keep sitting next to us it would help us on the way to feeling better again like you said."  
>"I don't know if that'll work for a person who's sick on the inside."<br>"It works on the brain all the time and-." Gosalyn caught her breath as something occurred to her. 'Flowers! Oh, no! Of course he doesn't like hospitals and health clinics! That's where most fresh cut flowers get sent!' A place like that would be horrific for him.

"So you think company helps when you're bored stuck in a doctor's surgery because you're sick?"  
>"Yes." Gosalyn answered feeling an acute case of guilt.<br>"Well, that's not such a bad ending." He raised an eyebrow. "I mean, helping someone feel better is a good thing to do."  
>Gosalyn took a breath in relief.<p>

"But I will have to ask Raya more about this 'bored' phenomenon."  
>"Actually I think she's a bit like you, Simon. Always engaged in her surroundings. Thinking about everything."<br>"Don't you think about the best way to do things?"  
>"Sure." Gosalyn responded. "Only the difference is that once I've found the best way I usually stop thinking and start waiting to get it done."<br>"Wow!" He gaped at her in awe. "I think I actually understand what bored is now! Thank you, Gosalyn."

Gosalyn raised an eyebrow. No doubt about it. This kid was just plain weird.

* * *

><p>"If you're going to wait for Raya, I guess you're going to wait. Pull up a chair, Simon."<br>"Forward."  
>Gosalyn looked up at him. "I beg your pardon?"<br>"The chair isn't rooted into the carpet and why indeed ... would ... I need to pull it up anyway? So the term, given the positive intention in the context of the rest of your words and tone of voice, would surely be better stated as 'forward'."  
>"Huh?" Gosalyn stared at him blankly. "You win. Ignore my ignorant turn of phrase, I just meant you can sit down."<br>"Oh, thank you." He replied and finally ventured further into the room. "But if you wouldn't mind, I would prefer to be by the window."  
>Gosalyn looked over at the square of light on the carpet. 'D'uh.' "Suit yourself."<p>

Simon Bushroot slowly moved across the room and stood by the window where he then fell silent.

'He's not so scrawny as his dad. He's broader across his shoulders.' Gosalyn considered Simon standing there, looking outside. 'But he's still nowhere near 'big and tough' looking. But I guess all things considered he could still call up an army of daffodils at his convenience.' She looked down at Catlyn, sticking close to her side as she played. Every time Gosalyn moved to sit differently Catlyn would get up and reseat herself so she was half buried in Gosalyn's feathers. 'You're quite clingy, little miss.' "I guess the world's a bit daunting at the moment for you, Catlyn." Then she remembered her talk with Raya about Simon and Ian's fight. 'But what's Simon's excuse for being so pushy?'


	55. Ch 6 The Day

_A/N: Verdict handed in by the jury: Not present your honour._

_The Day of the Triffids w__as written by John Wyndham. Darkwing Duck characters by Disney._

* * *

><p><strong>Left Wing Part 55<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Day of the Triffids<strong>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn tried to continue reading her history book but the dramatically motionless and soundless presence of Simon was far too distracting.<p>

"Feel free to talk, Simon." She invited. "Catlyn isn't exactly up for conversations yet and this certainly isn't my favourite schoolbook."  
>The waist-high shrub turned from the window to face her. "You don't mind if I talk? I normally don't behave like a weed ... how would you say it?"<br>"You mean you realise you've been pushy about getting your own way?" 'Or what about home territory invasion?' Gosalyn silently thought to herself.  
>"Oh, yes. Behaviour suggestive of a blunt and self-absorbed nature." He frowned, "how horrible of me."<br>"I didn't say that. Anyway children are allowed to be a little self-absorbed." Gosalyn forgave, "I was just like you when I was your age." 'Maybe that's why I'm expecting him to be up to something?'

"So I thought because the way you were before ... I mean; given by your previous defensive mental posturing belying your vulnerable position," he took a large breath, glancing at Catlyn as he did, "I thought that perhaps it would be best for me to withdraw as well as I could so as to avoid entering into a direct confrontation with you."  
>"Better late than never." Gosalyn scoffed quietly to herself, recalling all-too-easily the way he'd freely entered through the front door, and not to mention the confrontation he'd chosen to have with Raya's former boyfriend; Ian.<p>

"That's very thoughtful to be so civil as to draw a line regarding your behaviour." Gosalyn said aloud to him. "Especially since the more vulnerable my position, the more aggressive I'll probably be in defending it."  
>"What a great way to describe it!" Simon remarked with a sudden bubbling enthusiasm. "I've been giving a lot of thought to the subject myself lately!"<br>"Have you now?"  
>"Fear is an inspiration to acts of irrationality and the performance of a task with overabundant exertion. The more terrified one gets, the more these two outcomes can be seen in your resulting behaviour." He smiled broadly at her.<p>

"Oh, yeah, nothing like a bit of fear to manipulate someone." Gosalyn agreed after a moment of stunned silence. "It can turn a regular person into a monster or even a slave." Gosalyn noticed Catlyn was no longer interested in her games and was fidgeting with Gosalyn's shirt hem.

"I'm glad for this opportunity to talk with you." Simon blinked at her. "You seem to understand me more than my parents do even though we've barely even met."  
>Gosalyn pulled the restless Catlyn up into her lap. "Well, pleased to meet you, I'm Gosalyn Mallard."<br>"Are you sure?"  
>"I beg your pardon?" Gosalyn felt her heart jolt.<br>"I have to check because you don't seem sure. I think I somehow confused you when you opened the door."  
>"Well, I think we can deduct the possibilities." She answered carefully. "Who else would I be, sitting here in this lounge room?"<br>"Yes." Simon replied thoughtfully. "That's exactly what you did to arrive at the conclusion that you were Gosalyn Mallard when you answered the door."  
>Gosalyn blinked at him. 'How far inside my head can he see and what's the risk value on this?'<p>

"Did your parents give you a book on behavioural science by any chance?"  
>"How'd you know that?" He gaped at her. "Mum and dad were talking and they agreed that Mrs. Bancock didn't know the first thing about cross species biological norms and I'd be less confused if I skipped her lessons and just read it all in one go ... Are you telepathic?"<br>"I deduced it." Gosalyn flushed hotly. "From all your long words. Also I can tell you something else about yourself. People are your favourite topic."

"Gosh you sure are clever, Gosalyn." Simon beamed at her, "you could even become a detective when you finish school."

"That's a very dangerous profession, Simon." Gosalyn responded, ignoring the feeling that there was a bout of misery rising. "You have to be very clever to be a detective, Simon, or it'll be a very short career indeed."

Gosalyn looked down at Catlyn. 'I can move to Paris. Or Rome? That sounds nice. I wonder how many centuries am I too late to be a gladiator.' She turned to her history book and started flicking through it. 'What about the chariot races? Boy; that would've kicked driving one of those buggies. Of course I'd have to...'

"Those are not books." Simon moved over to the bookshelf. Unbeknownst to him he was skirting around the spinning armchairs that led straight to Darkwing Tower. He pointed up at Gosalyn's DVDs on the third shelf. He also was missing the fact that he'd just passed the external wall mark and was now standing in magical space. Morgana's magical home improvements included moving this particular internal wall a metre past the external one.  
>"Those are DVDs. Haven't you ever seen a movie, Simon?"<br>"I have. They are 'visual and audio representations of stories'." He recited. "You sit in a theatre with many other people ..." He took a breath. "And you all 'feel' things together." He turned back to the room, "but this?" He moved to the entertainment unit. "You must attach them to the television in some way in order to make the movie start up."  
>"So you know what a television is?"<br>"My grandparents have one." He reported and returned to the bookshelf. "But this, now this is a real book." He picked up a book that was lying flat on an otherwise empty space on the fourth shelf set aside for Raya. "The Day of the Triffids. Judging by the cover picture they're plants."  
>'Oh, no!' Gosalyn froze.<br>He opened the cover. "Oh, now I am flattered."  
>"It's a horror story, Simon; you don't want to read it."<br>"A horror story about plants?" He said in his continuously stilted mild tone. "Now that does sound quite interesting. I should attend to reading it." He crossed the space, moving back to the window and sat down.  
>Gosalyn felt the feathers prickling on the back of her neck. "Why doesn't anybody listen to me anymore? That's not a good book to read, Simon."<br>Simon blinked up at her. "No? It does seem to be a favoured title in your house. You also have the movie version." He nodded up at Gosalyn's shelf.

Gosalyn closed her beak. 'That's very observant.' "Raya never mentioned that."  
>"The Triffids book?"<br>"That you were so observant."  
>Simon's face grew serious for the first time. "There comes a point, when one must accept, that there are so many words up for describing oneself, that you cannot hope to disclose them all. By disclosing five and not the other five, you find you are no longer telling the full truth despite all your best intentions and wishes to do so."<p>

Gosalyn felt herself going red in the face with guilty embarrassment. Raya had obviously grilled him openly thanks to her meddling. "Yeah, it could get excessive. But I did ask Raya to describe you, and I only know you have a few more antonyms than Ian."  
>"A few more is still inaccurate. I am far more complex than Ian."<br>"That's a bit conceited!"  
>"What does that mean?"<br>"Boastful." Gosalyn supplied. "Like you're more important."

"I have plenty of symbiont friends who have basic phagocytosis digestive systems." He refuted.

"There's nothing in me that's simple. You can't be able to eat all the specific stuff I eat without the appropriate organs to process them. Then of course I have a flexi-skeletal semi-wood structure to support all that. On the other hand Ian is a Trichoplax Gargantuan."  
>"Biology is more interesting than dead history." Gosalyn snorted, glancing at her book. "But real people are more interesting than biology. I wanted Raya to find out what you're like as a person."<br>He stared at Gosalyn for a long moment. "Thank you for the intention and the effort, you're very kind."  
>"You're just some random little boy called Simon to me." Gosalyn shrugged. It was common decency.<br>He frowned. "Maybe this is what this book is for."  
>"No, that book's just a fictional horror story."<br>Simon seemed about ready to say something in rebuke, but then he just put the book down on the carpet.

"The plants are large, carnivorous and eat people. Am I correct?"  
>Gosalyn sighed. "You saw it in the movies ... you watched the TV serial ... you've read the book. Here now for your entertainment: Day of the Triffids: The Interview."<br>"How do they catch their victims?"  
>"I have a baby here who is very impressionable. Now I don't know who you think you are but I'm sorry, if you must have such answers then you're just going to have to read it yourself."<br>He straightened in some surprise.  
>"You didn't expect me to say that?"<br>"I expect you might say anything since I know very little about you, Gosalyn. There are so many variables that I can't account for but you've just said something that opens up an entirely different series of questions in my mind."

Catlyn started crying and Gosalyn held her up against her. "What-are-you, Simon?" She snapped over the noise of Catlyn's cries. "You sound like some sort of alien! Hush, what's the matter, Catlyn? Sweetie ... oh, dear."  
>"She's hungry."<br>Gosalyn looked up. "How could you just know that, Simon?"  
>"How I know is irrelevant to the fact, Gosalyn. She's hungry."<br>"Catlyn, are you hungry, sweetie?"  
>"Pwasfumahungeemummy." Catlyn jumbled out a string of words in a miserable voice, wiping a tear from her eye.<br>Gosalyn stood up and took Catlyn to the kitchen to find out.


	56. Ch 6 Divided

_A/N: L'almighty it's warm in here. It's 1.30pm and it's 32.5 degrees Celsius in the still _gloomy _air of the garage. From now on the power cable is going to live in the room where my fans are set up rather than sitting out here slowly cooking in the garage area. _

* * *

><p><strong>Div<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>ided Attention<strong>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn organised Catlyn into the high chair and fixed up the mashed banana meal. She started spooning the food to Catlyn who very eagerly obliged to open her beak for it.<br>"I guess the evidence is pretty conclusive that you are hungry. I wonder if I could hire Simon as a part-time interpreter. Huh? And then maybe we could get some sleep, huh? Baby?" She smiled at Catlyn and lifted the spoon to her beak again.

"Stop!" Justin's shrill voice split the air. "Q!" The cry for help was coming from the lounge room.

Gosalyn jumped straight up, dropping the spoon into the bowl on the tray of the high chair and rushed out into the lounge room.

* * *

><p>Justin ran around her and hid behind her legs.<br>Meanwhile Simon was sitting on the floor in front of the sofa with an alarmed look on his face. "I'm sorry, Justin. I was only playing." Simon said in an apologetic voice. "I didn't believe I was being too rough." He added plaintively.  
>There was no immediate threat here. "What-?" A befuddled Gosalyn grabbed the cowering Justin up from his clamp on her leg. "Justin ..." She took a breath to calm herself. "What happened, Justin?"<p>

"He was tickling me!" Justin whimpered and then hid his face in her shirt.  
>"Wha-at!" Gosalyn groaned. 'Of all the-.'<br>"What's 'tickling'?" Simon sat there by the coffee table, looking distraught.

"Justin, Justin!" Gosalyn tried her best to be calm in the face of the ridiculous. She hoisted her little brother across the room and sat him down on the lounge not too far from Simon. She knelt down in front of her little brother. "Justin." She started with a rational tone of voice. "I want you to sit here and explain to Simon what tickling is and why you don't like it." She stated clearly. "I am sure that once he understands what it is Simon will be good enough to do his best not to do it to you again, okay? Can you do that for me? Justin?"  
>Justin nodded unhappily and finally looked up at her. "Oh-kay." He mumbled shakily.<br>"So tell me what are you going to do now?"  
>"I'm going to be brave like daddy." Justin's voice was becoming steady again.<br>"And?"  
>"Dip-low-matic." The toddler's frown turned back into a smile. "Like mummy."<br>"Good." Gosalyn gave him a quick hug. "So you'll be alright in here to have your discussion and I'll go back to the kitchen." "Thank you, Gosalyn."  
>"Sure, kiddo." Gosalyn stood up with a smile and returned to the kitchen.<p>

* * *

><p>Banana mush was officially everywhere.<p>

"Oh, Catlyn." Gosalyn sighed and advanced into the war zone to face her child.

The bowl was miraculously still in front of Catlyn but the spoon had gone bye byes. It had evidently taken a leave of absence after committing its wanton acts of food splattering.  
>"Mummy!" Catlyn quacked cheerily at her. "Moh?"<br>"Aw," Gosalyn melted instantly at Catlyn's banana smeared grin. "Of course, sweetie, let me just clean you up first so your down doesn't dry all yucky."  
>"Yuchee?" Her duckling mimicked with a question in her tone.<br>Gosalyn retrieved the washer from the sink and began wiping Catlyn clean. There were bits of banana everywhere. "Oh, you had a bit of fun while mummy was away, didn't you?"  
>"Mafee!" Catlyn laughed excitedly in agreement. "Mafee!"<p>

It was a couple minutes later and Gosalyn had settled herself down in her wiped down chair with a new spoon. Making a mental note to clean up the rest of the kitchen later, she continued to feed her happy baby.

* * *

><p>"Justin has given me a new question."<p>

Gosalyn turned her head to see Simon in the doorway. It was a good job she wasn't her dad or she might've lost her cool by now. "Didn't Justin explain the tickling thing to you properly?"  
>"Yes, he gave me a sufficient explanation. It is curious that Raya doesn't suffer a similar tensile response but that is really just an observation, not the question I was attending."<br>"Attending, huh? Well, spit it out then." Catlyn started reaching for the spoon from Gosalyn's fingers. "Oh, not you, honey." As soon as Gosalyn brought the spoon near enough Catlyn clamped her beak down over it. "I'd like you to keep yours in, baby. It'd be nice to get out of this session with only one more cleanup if we can." There was a moment of quiet and a couple more spoonfuls before Gosalyn returned her attention to the visitor. "Go on then, Simon."  
>"Why did Justin call you 'Q'? Or should I say: he called out 'Q' and you came; which is the effect he wanted."<br>"It's just a nickname. It's short to say and grabs my attention very quickly, as you saw."  
>"Indeed. But why the letter 'Q'?"<br>"Simon-." Gosalyn quickly blocked.  
>"Why not 'G'? Um ... do you have a middle name?"<br>"Elizabeth." Gosalyn answered in relief. "It's plain old Gosalyn Elizabeth Mallard."  
>"There is nothing plain about you, Gosalyn."<p>

It was a startling compliment. "Thanks, that's very sweet of you, Simon."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn concentrated on feeding Catlyn, rather than feeding Simon's mind-reading abilities more information.<br>Simon carried on thinking out loud. "So then one might contend with the idea that it was some other term of reference or that you merely liked the letter, but then that would leave the question of why that was. And now I have another question. Why are you blocking?"  
>Gosalyn focused on scooping the banana from the sides of the bowl. "In case you haven't noticed I've been blocking you all afternoon, Simon." She answered as she raised the spoon for Catlyn's open and expecting beak.<br>"No, not like this." Simon disagreed. "How odd to have a secret in such an unexpected place as a nickname. Very well." His voice suddenly changed as though his attention had gone elsewhere and Gosalyn was grateful. Simon disappeared quietly into the kitchen behind Gosalyn's line of vision.

To the side Gosalyn listened as Simon's investigation took him into the fridge. Well, whatever if it kept him occupied. "This is Raya's." He remarked at something in there.  
>"You sure are hungry today, Catlyn." Gosalyn remarked cheerily, "Minus the splatters you've nearly finished the whole banana this time."<p>

By some small miracle she was left alone and Gosalyn was able to finish feeding Catlyn in peace.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn stood up, taking the bowl and the spoon. She turned around and Simon was standing abruptly in front of her. "Oh!"<br>"Excuse me." He took a step out of her way. "But I'm not sure what you want done with this spoon?" He held up the missing spoon. "Catlyn lost it while she was feeding herself earlier. It seems you provided yourself with a spare."  
>"Oh, you found it. I didn't look particularly hard. Thanks." She took the spoon from his leafy fingers and rinsed the dishes in the sink. Then she opened the dishwasher to put them inside.<br>"Goodness gracious me!" Simon exclaimed, clearly taken by complete surprise by this new revelation.  
>Gosalyn giggled with her eyes on the rack of dirty dishes. "Is there no dishwasher in the greenhouse?"<br>"Not even at my grandparent's house. Was the running water not good enough?"  
>"Er ... you guys have a bit stronger resilience to bugs and germs, kiddo."<br>"Oh." Simon accepted her answer.

"Can I ask another question, Gosalyn?"  
>"Simon ..." Gosalyn sighed; regaining her patience as she gently closed the door to the dishwasher. "Can I ask you a question?"<br>"Of course."  
>"Is this helpful for you? I mean; this anthropological investigation of yours?"<br>"Yes, thank you, I'm learning all sorts of things about Raya's world. I'm very grateful as I need every bit of help I can get and you're a fountain of information that I wouldn't otherwise have."  
>"Uh-huh." So far as nefarious plots went Simon's was pretty okay, Gosalyn accepted. "So long as it's helping you learn I'm okay with it. So what's the new question?"<p>

Gosalyn watched Simon go and open the fridge. He drew out a Quackerware container. "The contents smell edible but I have no idea what it is."  
>"It's soup."<br>"Soup? I have never encountered this before."  
>"You think you can eat it? Would you like to try some?"<br>"Oh, yes please if it wouldn't be too much inconvenience. Only just a little bit because I'm not particularly hungry. Just to taste it."  
>"Fair enough." Gosalyn fetched a bowl from the cupboard and spooned a few dollops into it.<p>

"What happens if you find you shouldn't have eaten something? Do you get sick on it?"  
>"If it doesn't smell like food I won't eat it."<br>"Okay. I thought I'd just double check."  
>Simon frowned up at her. "Do I need to apologise?"<br>"Oh, no, I understand." Gosalyn reassured him with a smirk.  
>"You do?"<br>"Yeah," she answered, closing the door to the microwave. "Sometimes being polite is a risky business. If you're too polite you can get into even worse trouble."

Gosalyn set the microwave for a minute.  
>"Oh, what are you doing?"<br>"It needs to be heated up first. It's too cold right now. It's not nice when it's cold."  
>"I had a notion that might be what my stomach did." Simon mused.<br>"That's enzymes, Simon. This is water particles resonance. And taste buds."  
>"Oh! So then that's a microwave?"<br>"Yup."  
>"Thomas told me about how microwaves worked!" Simon watched in fascination.<br>"Cull?" Catlyn piped from her highchair, determined to be part of the conversation.  
>"Mummy hasn't forgotten you, sweetheart." Gosalyn smiled at Catlyn while she fetched a fresh spoon from the drawer.<p>

The microwave dinged and Gosalyn brought the bowl to the table, stirring it up. "Now be careful, Simon, it'll be very hot. You'll have to wait for it to cool."  
>Simon looked up at her from her side with a pained look on his face. "I don't get it!"<br>"It's too hot. It needs to be only warm." She pulled out the chair for him and then went to fetch the washer.  
>"Wahm." Catlyn interjected.<br>"Now I know how Goldilocks felt." Simon grimaced. "How terribly frustrating. And you go through this every time you use the microwave?"  
>Gosalyn picked up Catlyn and sat down in her chair, going over her daughter again with the rinsed washer. "Every time. It needs to get really hot to kill any germs that could make you sick. Try blowing on it, Simon."<p>

Simon sat down in a chair and consulted the spoon, finally managing to get it cool enough to put it between his beak. "Mm. It's really quite nice."  
>"Yeah. Catlyn's granddad agrees with you. There, almost clean, Catlyn." Gosalyn told her daughter. "We just need to get you a fresh shirt." She stood up. "We'll be back in a minute, Simon."<p> 


	57. Ch 6 Part 57

**The Great Investigation**

* * *

><p>Gosalyn went upstairs. She put Catlyn on the bed and whipped a new shirt on her.<p>

Catlyn gurgled in surprise as they came downstairs again.  
>"This was a quick trip, huh Catlyn?" Gosalyn commented. "Mum'll keep you on your toes, don't you worry."<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn stepped back into the kitchen and watched Simon Bushroot turning the tap on, rinsing his bowl. Then the plant-duckling leaned forwards to the stream of water. "Whoa, Simon, if you want a drink there are glasses in the cupboard above the bench."<br>He straightened up fast, twisting off the tap. "Oh my gosh, yes. I forgot." He answered in a hushed voice. He loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. Then he fixed himself a glass of water and sat down at the table. It was the way he sat down and his posture that Gosalyn got the feeling that his little lawnmower had just crashed into a wall.  
>'Uh-oh.'<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn sat down in the chair beside the highchair again since she hadn't pushed it back when she'd left earlier. "It's not a big mistake, Simon."<br>"The point of a mistake is to learn from it. But that is something I already know." He said in personal frustration.  
>"Hey. It happens. You've obviously got too much on your mind. Besides, it's not what you do all the time at home so you're not exactly in practice with it."<br>"That's not good enough!" Simon grizzled.

"I am going to lose if I cannot apply the things I have already learnt."  
>"So I guess that just leaves only one question you've got to ask yourself." He looked up to her. "What's stopping you, Simon?"<br>He shook his head, looking downwards. "My father told me last night that I have stress wilt."  
>"So you feel like you're in a constant exam?"<br>He nodded.  
>"Where's all this pressure coming from to perform all the time then?"<br>"I c-..." Tears started filling his eyes and he took a mouthful of water from his glass.  
>"Because Raya's watching you." Gosalyn finished. Simon nodded back at her. "Oh, boy. Me and my big beak alright."<p>

Gosalyn sat there watching him as he tried his best to put his brave facade back on. It was all just a front, to be so bold and determined. Underneath lay a different story. She had an overwhelming desire to hug him and then shake some sense into him.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn ran her mind back over their previous discussions. "You're missing a reaction from your fear inspiration theory, Simon." Gosalyn mentioned. "A freaked out guy also makes mistakes."<br>"Yes, in hindsight I do not believe I needed to scare Ian quite so much as I thought I did at the time."  
>"Should I ask you if it was actually you that was the first person scared?"<br>"Yeah, that was me, alright." Simon admitted without hesitation. "I was really freaked out." He added in a hushed voice. "That was me. I was selfish. I was scared I was going to lose Raya."  
>"So you scared him back. What if this thing you're scared of happens again?"<p>

"It would not because I would stop it first. I cannot lose, I refuse the outcome!"

Gosalyn had it solved now. "There's your pressure; self inflicted. What are you, a plant or a cockerel? I know she's my sister, but to you she's got to be just a girl. There's a dozen in your class, hundreds in your school, thousands in the city. Why'd you have to mess with this particular girl's date?"  
>"Because she's ... my ... particular girl." Simon retorted. "And she is a very particular girl. There is nobody like Raya, not in a hundred years."<br>"Yerk. Don't get carried away or anything." Gosalyn turned her head away from him, back to Catlyn. 'This is getting gross.'

* * *

><p>Her memories flashed back to how she'd tricked Fleetwood out of the car and into the mud slick and out of her life. She wasn't sure if it was the ruined sports coat or the ten kilometre walk back home that had stopped him from ever calling her back.<br>"Whoa, what'd he do to deserve that?"  
>"Because he didn't know how to back-!" She stopped, and looked over at Simon.<br>His eyes were a bright green. He was obviously observing her mental images from inside her head.

"Up."  
>Simon blinked at her. "I need to know more about this 'back up' thing, it seems extremely important."<br>"Sure. Ever seen a car go forward?"  
>"Yes."<br>"Now, have you ever seen a car go in reverse?"  
>"Yes."<br>"You have? Why do they do this? When?"  
>"They do it when they're parking sometimes."<br>"Well, I don't want to discount all boys, but the ones I've dated don't know how to reverse into a parking space. In fact I suspect the guys that come around to me have no intention of parking at all. They just want to keep driving till there's no more gas and pfft, they get out and find another car to drive. I swear I'm hopeless. He probably exists, this guy that can park right, but I can't see him out there."

"Raya never saw me." Simon lowered his eyes to the table. "It felt like I got hit by that car." He looked up at Gosalyn. "I guess the guy you're looking for won't get what he wants most in life if he doesn't stand up and shout so he doesn't get run over either."  
>"Boy." Gosalyn watched the fresh tears trickle from Simon's eyes. "Has Raya got you all wrong."<p>

She sighed. "Why is everybody crying around me?" She got up and pulled her chair over to sit beside Simon, sitting Catlyn back in her lap. "Simon, running purely on observation, you're as thin as two string beans and as diminutive as a lavender bush. Is it your thing to go around beating up on other kids?"  
>Simon rubbed his head. "I seem to have obtained a reputation out of a single desperate act."<br>"Simon." Gosalyn repeated steadily. "Is it your thing to pick on other kids?"  
>"No!" Simon shouted through his tears. "I'm not like that! The world's to share."<br>"Oh." Gosalyn struggled hard not to smile at his outrage. "The whole world ... but Raya's not part of that world?"  
>"No. She's not."<p>

"Uh-huh." Gosalyn straightened Catlyn's shirt. It was a wonder but Catlyn was being very quiet and well-behaved right now.

* * *

><p>"What about your brother, you've got one, right?" Gosalyn asked Simon Bushroot.<br>"Harry?" He scoffed. "Harry's got the least to do with this than anyone."  
>"What's his opinion? About Raya? What if you find he wants her to himself? Then what?"<br>"Harry? Oh, no, Harry definitely doesn't want Raya!" Simon said in a patronizing voice. Gosalyn blinked in shock at how the emotions were just pouring out of Simon now.

"Raya's just a girl to him; not even a particularly interesting girl because she doesn't like to play ball games and even if she was and even if she did, she's not strong enough anyway and that was the end of his lecture." Simon folded his arms crankily and sat back, watching Catlyn instead of Gosalyn.

Gosalyn sat back against the chair, hissing. " 'Not strong enough anyway.' For what?"  
>"I'll never talk to Harry for girl advice again." Simon stated bitterly in a non answer without looking up at her.<br>"Oh, so he supposedly knows everything on the subject, does he?"  
>"It turned out to be a counterproductive move. My brother is one stick short of a sapling sometimes."<br>Gosalyn giggled.

"Did you tell him that?"  
>"Assuredly. It's the perfect thing I say whenever I need a proper fight with him."<br>"What does he call you to make you fight? The same?"  
>"No, Gosalyn." Simon sighed, looking up at her. "I'm the one with all the issues. I'm the one who starts all the fights."<br>"Oh, well, there's one thing you have in common with Raya, then." Gosalyn said kindly.

"Harry just breezes through life and sometimes he's just ..." Simon rubbed his head.  
>"Thicket headed?"<br>Simon nodded, watching Catlyn. "Yeah." He said flatly. "That's a good one."  
>"If he keeps himself neatly pruned he's on a good thing. There are plenty of girls out there who like box hedges."<p>

Simon looked up at Gosalyn with an incredible look of disfavour.  
>"I wasn't saying you were a box hedge. Or would have trouble finding girls. Geez." Gosalyn cursed herself. "I'm not very good at this. I'm sorry."<p>

Catlyn reached her arms out to Simon, her tiny fingers stretched out to him. "Oiyahm?"  
>"Wanna hold her, Simon?" Gosalyn handed her over into Simon's viney grip.<br>Catlyn gave him a tight hug. He looked like he needed it.

* * *

><p>"Why is it that my life has been so horribly wrong for the last month and nobody-understands-me?"<br>Gosalyn sat back. "I'm sorry I'm not the one to understand you about this boy and girl thing, Simon. In some really cruel sadistic twist of fate I actually understand what's going on in Harry's head." She put her hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. "Bu-ut I think I like you better."  
>"You do?"<br>"Sure. You stand up for yourself and you don't take anybody's rubbish. Whenever I want something, I get up and make it happen just like you. The hard part is when it's big; you have to figure out how to do it."  
>"If you're like me, you'll be lurking there in the shadows, and then you see something, and it just hits you of how to do it." He sighed. "I apologised to Ian."<br>"Oh, you did?" 'That's a positive thing.'  
>"Yes, because he didn't do anything wrong generally."<br>"That's very grown up of you."  
>"But I said he still wasn't getting her unless Raya made that specific choice because she's extremely important to me."<br>"Stop." Gosalyn held out her arms and took Catlyn back. "How many choices were you giving my sister there?"

Simon paused, thinking hard. "I think there was only really two being me or not me, because if she did say no to me I think I would be gravely pruned away from helping her out between her other choices thereafter." He rubbed his head.  
>Gosalyn frowned, her mind going back to her own opinion of all this nonsense. "What if she didn't want to date anyone? What if Raya wanted to wait a few years and just be friends in the meanwhile? How would you feel then?"<br>"I don't want to deal with another Ian again." Simon answered with finality.  
>Gosalyn was quiet. What was she supposed to answer? 'Of course you don't'?<p>

"But if I didn't have to face that situation again, I'd be extremely relieved to wait on this 'date' thing." Simon's face upturned unhappily to her. "I'm not old enough for this stuff, Gosalyn. My stamens haven't grown out and my hormones just want me to 'grow', not 'show'. I'm playing the biggest game of my life with Raya and it's not as easy as chess."  
>"Oh, good grief, the scary green-eyed monster plays chess."<br>"It's not most people's game. Thomas plays it, though."  
>Gosalyn grinned with the familiar name. "This is Thomas Sputterspark, right?"<br>Simon nodded.  
>"... Is he any good?"<br>"Fairly." Simon answered, the faint stirrings of a smile creeping onto his face.  
>"What! Only 'fairly'?" Gosalyn retorted humorously, allowing herself to take the bait for a good diversion. "I can't stand down a challenge like that." Gosalyn jumped to a stand. "You and me. What's your colour?"<p> 


	58. Ch 6 Chess

_Author's note: It's mid February but Halloween is all year round on the VAPX007 channel. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chess Game<strong>

* * *

><p>The sound of the station wagon's engine pulling up the driveway heralded the end of the chess session. Simon's attention was completely taken over when he heard the sound of the garage door opening and he swivelled himself to watch the doorway to the hall.<p>

"Thank you for the game, Simon." Gosalyn prompted.

The medium sized Bushroot turned hurriedly back to Gosalyn with a dark green blush on his face. "Thank you for talking with me, and for playing. You're a very good teacher."  
>"You're welcome." She answered.<br>"Thomas thinks you're 'really electric', too."  
>'Oh, and I'm sure he helped put you on my trail.' "Well. It's always nice to be so highly regarded." Gosalyn accepted the compliment. Then she grinned teasingly at him and back to the half-played match. "I guess I beat you."<br>Simon looked down at the chess board between them as the door opened. "Yes, I think you would win this time given my now severely distracted mental state."  
>Gosalyn started picking up the pieces and putting them away. "Oh, you are just looking for a rematch, aren't you?"<br>"I shall keep you in mind. Thank you."

* * *

><p>Simon stood up and walked over as Raya appeared at the doorway.<p>

"Raya. Have you been crying?"  
>Gosalyn covered her eyes and shook her head. Kid may have had a freaky vocabulary but he was a long way from being the silver-tongued diplomat.<p>

Raya didn't answer his blunt question.

Finally Simon asked a new question. "Why do you want to date?"  
>"Because ... I don't want to be alone." Raya stressed.<br>"Raya, I'm never going to leave you to be alone."  
>Raya sighed tiredly. "What do you want, Simon?"<br>"I'd best explain the importance of things first. What I need is you. I need to keep you, and so if you want to keep doing this dating thing then I will." He took a breath. "But what I want, which is not as important, is to grow up a little bit first. So I was thinking ... maybe ... we could be best friends and just hang out together and not call it a date until later?"  
>Gosalyn could see the wheels turning in her sister's head as Raya thought the option through. Would she agree?<p>

* * *

><p>Raya stepped up closer to Simon. "Can we still hug?"<br>Simon took the question as an invitation and immediately wrapped his vines around Raya, pulling her closely against him.  
>"Oi! You can stop right there!" Gosalyn snapped with sudden shock. "She said 'can we' not 'right now in front of my big sister'! Have a heart and PG this encounter you two?"<p>

Simon let go of Raya and turned back to Gosalyn. "I'm sorry. What do you mean, 'PG', Gosalyn?"  
>"I mean, Simon," Gosalyn gritted, "that if only as a common decency for the more impressionable and or sadly dateless members of your present audience, now would be a really good idea for the two of you to go outside and take that walk you wanted."<br>"Oh, now I get it." Simon's voice was brighter as he turned back to Raya. "Would you like to go for a walk with me, Raya?"  
>Gosalyn saw Raya smile at Simon for the first time. "I would love to go for a walk. With you. Simon." The children held hands and left, closing the door behind them.<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn leaned back against the coffee table, feeling slightly irked and sorely jealous. She looked down at Catlyn as she crawled onto Gosalyn's lap and offered up the robot for her mother to play with.<br>"Let me guess; Reginald hasn't taught Simon the meaning of 'censorship' yet." Gosalyn wiggled the robot at Catlyn who held up the doll before it, chattering incomprehensibly in a parental tone.

Drake poked his head into the lounge room. "What have you been up to, Gosalyn?"  
>"Being a big sister." Gosalyn insisted as he walked into the room.<br>"I don't think Raya's going to be happy that you told Simon she cried."

"But you see that's the thing, isn't it, dad? I actually said that 'everyone' was crying. I included myself in the water works when I was thinking about it and I only said it at all because 'he' was crying at the time. As a matter of fact, I only heard him ask her a question." The feathers were prickling at the back of her neck as she finished accounting for herself to her father. "And in the end why shouldn't he ask if he cares about her?"

"Hmm." Drake shook his head with a knowing look on his face.  
>"What?" Gosalyn asked defensively.<p>

* * *

><p>"How did that get there?"<p>

Changing the subject he went and picked up the book Simon had left on the floor near the window and then came across and sat down on the chair in front of Gosalyn.

"Dad, how'd that thing get in the house?" Gosalyn felt scandalised.  
>"Raya prefers books over movies so I got it for her."<br>"It's a horror story, dad."  
>"I would've called it science fiction," he rebounded haughtily, "and it's also sitting on your shelf and I remember how that one got there: because you were sitting on the other side of the exact same argument that we're having right now."<br>"Da-ad! If you want to help Raya with interspecies relationships you should get her a book on Cosmo Duck, not a dystopian nightmare."  
>"I did look for one with plants in it. Still, you can't argue about the practicality of this book. Despite my scepticism, all your monster movie marathons have proven useful for you on plenty of occasions. Remember the case of the rampaging rubber ducks? It was reminiscent of the 1980s B-grade classic 'The Mannequin Bride' which is sitting conveniently on your shelf beside 'The Aquatraz Project'."<p>

Gosalyn looked over at the third shelf that was designated as hers and held her vintage monster movies. She sighed in defeat. "Why is it I seem to be losing so many arguments lately?"  
>"Because you're outnumbered and the masses are upon you. I can relate."<p>

Gosalyn rubbed her head. "Yeah? Or am I just outplayed?"

* * *

><p>Catlyn began reaching out for the chess set lying on the floor next to Gosalyn. "Aee?"<br>Gosalyn reseated her on her lap. "No, honey, those pieces are a bit too small for you at the moment."

"What's the chess set doing out of the cupboard?"  
>"Dad, the boy's a chess player. Simon's not exactly your run of your mill leather clad bikie boy from 'ell who don' listen ta' no one about nuffin'. Everything Simon does that involves other people is move, countermove. When he's on his own he's happily in his own head quietly contemplating life, listening to classical music. He's as cerebral as Honker. I don't know the details of how the notion came about, but there's no way he's some big mean tough guy. It's just an act."<br>"Boy, has he got you fooled, Gosalyn. You'd do better to compare Simon to his father."  
>"So?"<br>"There are a couple clear differences." Drake summarised. "One is proactiveness: Simon's just had the scare of his life and that's an experience he's determined to keep from happening again."  
>"And good luck to him. So how else would you describe him then?"<br>"His dad's only as good as the company he keeps because he's so suggestible, right?"

"He fails the peer pressure test, so?"  
>"So Simon's the opposite. He's got a hardwood mentality. Everyone else sits under his canopy, surviving by his graceful giving of dappled light. He has a real 'this is the way things are' attitude about him. He calls the shots. Combine that with the same core motives as his father and-."<p>

"What's wrong with him getting the girl? That's all he really wants. It's just one simple thing." Gosalyn grabbed Catlyn and jumped up to a stand, making her daughter squawk in surprise and giggle. "So what, dad? Why not? Simon's worked really hard. He's put in a heck of a lot of effort so why doesn't he deserve his paycheque? And what's so bad about it, I mean, why does he deserve less than everybody else?" There was a cry in her voice.  
>"Gosalyn, sweetie-pie."<p>

"It's just not fair, dad."  
>"I never once said he was wrong or that he didn't deserve it."<br>Gosalyn blinked back hot tears. "So then what?"  
>"So, it's just that Simon's good at making things work, that's all. No matter how difficult it is, he finds a way to manage it. And if he's 'move, countermove' with people like you're saying he is, then he's good at managing people. As he grows up, he'll be one of the people that take charge and becomes a team leader."<br>"You really think so, dad?" Gosalyn croaked.  
>"Either that or a diabolical chess master ... Gos, you're taking it so personally. Who exactly are we talking about here?"<br>"Um, Simon."

"... Hmm ..." Drake was thinking to himself.

Gosalyn frowned. "Dad? Do you 'like' Simon?"  
>"Hey!" He blinked up at her. "I actually won the argument with your mother over which boy was better for Raya."<br>"Really?" She said sarcastically. 'I'm sure that's something to hold onto!'  
>"Young lady." Her father fixed his eyes on her in warning. "Behave."<br>"Uh, what was the clinching factor, dad?" She asked sheepishly.  
>"What it all came down to was one rather pertinent fact ..." Drake closed his eyes and eased back into the chair with a smile on his face.<br>"Which was?"

"Simon didn't eat his plate."

"D'oh!" Gosalyn groaned in mental anguish at this revelation, "come on, Catlyn. I'm feeling intellectually deprived. Let's go upstairs to study."


	59. Ch 6 Launchpad

**Launchpad**

* * *

><p>History wasn't working for her today so Gosalyn moved on to English.<p>

There was a knock on her bedroom door.

Gosalyn looked up. "Yeah?"  
>The door opened to a large figure dressed in a brown leather jacket. "Hiyah, kiddo."<br>"Launchpad! I haven't seen you in ages!" Gosalyn grinned. "How are you?"  
>"Oh, can't complain." He shrugged with a smile.<p>

"So ... what's up to pay us this exclusive visit?"  
>"I've got mail for you."<br>Gosalyn's face fell.

* * *

><p>This was the letter to tell her she was fired. Opening it would make her days working with S.H.U.S.H. final. But then, Director Hooter wasn't coming back either so there was hardly any point to stick around.<p>

She turned back to her poetry exercise. "Here he fell and here he now lies. Goodnight sweet prince as all good things ... d'oh, stupid pluralisations; that doesn't rhyme." She put down her pencil. "I wish I could invent stuff as easily as dad does, Launchpad."  
>"Well, I'm told reading lots of books helps."<br>Gosalyn rolled her eyes. "There's gotta be a short-cut. Hmm. Maybe if I get dressed up as Scarlet and sat here, I'd actually get through this English course?"  
>"Maybe you should open your letter first? It could be important, Gos."<br>"Sure." She sighed unhappily, taking the envelope from Launchpad. "With Griz, every form is important."

As she opened the sealed envelope she realised there wasn't a letter in it at all.  
>"It's last month's cheque." She discovered aloud. "Where's the other letter they sent, Launchpad?"<br>"You're expecting another letter?"  
>"Yeah, a 25DCM."<br>"...?" Launchpad looked at her blankly.  
>"A DCM - Don't Come Monday. It's standard procedure when terminating employees. It's the one that replaced keelhauling thirteen years after the industrial age ended."<br>"Well, I dunno, Gos ... Maybe they're still spellchecking it?"  
>She narrowed an eye at him. Launchpad was never good at hiding things and after a moment Gosalyn decided his tone of voice was sincere. "Yeah ... I guess so."<p>

"S'how're you and Catlyn going?"  
>"She wakes up about every three hours. I don't remember Justin or Raya crying through the night."<br>"That's probably because you were out for the count, getting your own full night's sleep and didn't hear a thing because of it."  
>"But I wake up to Catlyn. If she's upstairs crying and I'm in the kitchen with the microwave going, I still hear her."<br>"Most mums have a pretty amazing feat of hearing." Launchpad remarked. "Y'dad calls it 'tuned in'."  
>"Oh, yeah. I knew that." Gosalyn shook her head and looked down at the cheque. "Well, that's really nice to have a little extra money but it really could've helped me coming in on time."<br>"So now you can get a new bow for yourself?"  
>"Nah, I think I'll just sit on this for a while more."<br>"Y'might want to bank the cheque just in case, though."  
>Gosalyn giggled as he headed for the door. "Good idea, Launchpad. Thanks. Um-wait?"<p>

He turned back to her. "Yeah?"  
>"Did you tell dad about this?"<br>"Sort of, I didn't know what the letter was about when it came in today. Why?"  
>"It's just that ... well ... Dad royally freaked when he looked at my bank account." Gosalyn explained quietly. "He said from now on I should check with him on all my pay cheques so I don't do a whole bunch of work for nothing."<br>"Gee, that doesn't sound like him. I'd better talk to him."  
>"Well, it sure sounded like him to me. He basically said that I can volunteer to patrol and not get paid, but I should get paid double for listening to Grizlykoff rant."<br>"Oh, yeah." Launchpad chuckled. "Now that's more like the DW I know."

"Deedah?" Catlyn interjected from behind Gosalyn.

"He means granddad, baby." Gosalyn scooped Catlyn up and smiled at Launchpad. "Catlyn, this is Uncle Launchpad, have you met Uncle Launchpad before?"  
>"Yah, awhpa."<br>Launchpad beamed at them. "Y'know, Q, you two make a cute pair."  
>Gosalyn grimaced. "Only you, Launchpad." She said in a reproving voice. "I hope you realise that. Only you could say that and just walk away scott free."<br>"Whoa, okay." He chuckled nervously. "Transmission received loud and clear, ground control." Launchpad saluted.

"Mummy nahfieying?" Catlyn interrupted. "Awpahnahwong!"  
>Launchpad chuckled. "Aw, heheh. I mean-." He cleared his throat and dropped his voice down an octave. "... thattaway, kiddo. You set your mum straight."<br>Gosalyn shook her head. Launchpad was still a big kid at heart and a great friend. "Thanks for the letter, Launchpad."  
>"Service that delivers. So what about you, Catlyn? Is your mum expecting you to play the tough cookie already?"<p>

Catlyn looked up at Gosalyn with a wide-eyed innocent look. "Echmatuhcoomummy?"  
>"You're allowed to be adorable, Catlyn."<br>"And so are you, Gos. Yeh can't go setting double standards. Catlyn won't fall for it any more than you did with yeh dad."  
>"Drat." Gosalyn grunted, "there you go being right again."<br>"Heh. I have my days." Launchpad shrugged with a smile.

* * *

><p>"Anyway, I've gotta fly."<br>"Oh! You're not staying for dinner?"  
>"Sorry, not this time, Q." His smile faded slightly. "I'm needed back home."<br>"Maybe we can plan something? Have a proper get together with everyone?"  
>"Hey, that's a swell idea." His smile brightened again. "I reckon they'd enjoy that."<br>"I reckon you'd enjoy it too, Launchpad." Gosalyn added gently.  
>"Don't you worry about me, kiddo. You just look after Catlyn and get back into your books on Monday. Just remember: every engine needs some down-time for maintenance so it can stay running smoothly." He squeezed her shoulder. "Broken wings need time to mend."<br>Gosalyn grabbed him for a hug. "Take care of yourself, Launchpad. Watch your back."  
>"Always, Q." He straightened and then smiled at Catlyn holding her outstretched hand for a moment. "See you later, little lady."<br>"Selatah awhpa." The door closed and it was just the two of them again.

"Bowgenmummy?"  
>Gosalyn blinked down at her. "Hey, what're you looking so serious for, Catlyn?"<br>Catlyn stood up unsteadily in Gosalyn's lap and gave her a hug.  
>"Oh, sweetheart." Gosalyn hugged her back. "You can be whoever you want to be. And if you really want to keep playing with dolls ... well ... mummy will just have to get over it." She put Catlyn down next to her in front of the robot, car and doll, eyeing the doll in personal loathing. 'Of course, I'm not saying it'd be an easy thing for me to get over.'<p>

Gosalyn sniffed the air, getting hungry at the smell of cooking wafting in under the door. "How about we go see what granddad is up to in the kitchen, huh, champ?"


	60. Ch 6 Too Cull

**Too Cull**

* * *

><p>It was Thursday night if Gosalyn could believe it. There were only three days left till she was back at school and that looming reality never felt so weird as she sat her little duckling down in the high chair. But, with all the niggling reservations of how life was going to be come Monday, the most pressing decision Gosalyn needed to make as of right now was what she was going to mash up for Catlyn's dinner.<p>

Turning to the sideboard Gosalyn noticed her dad was assembling plates of blanched beans, soggy carrots and dry nut loaf.  
>"Problems with the case, dad?" She casually asked as she went and pulled out glasses and a water jug from the cupboard to compliment the loaf.<br>"It's nothing that I can't handle." He dismissed gruffly.

Maybe he could handle it, Gosalyn acknowledged, but the overdone food told Gosalyn he was heavily preoccupied which always meant something pretty huge had landed on his plate.  
>"Well you know where I am." She offered pleasantly.<br>"Of course."  
>"Remember that all you have to do is ask, dad."<br>He turned his head to her, raising an eyebrow. The tongs were in his right hand. "You must be feeling better. I can't remember the last time my teenager was this tenacious."

"It must be the threat of school looming." Gosalyn discounted his remark as she scavenged a few pieces of disintegrating broccoli for Catlyn's bowl from the steamer.  
>"I just wish you were this voracious about vanquishing vegetables as you are with vicious vermin."<br>"Hey, I am still a teenager; let's not rush these things. And anyway it's been a while since you were this possessive about a case. Are you sure you're alright?"  
>"I'm-fine! It's just ..." He sighed and turned back to serving out the corn. "You're right. And I know you hate it when I'm being over-protective, but-."<br>"It just never bodes well. The more possessive you are, dad, the more you tend to need-." Gosalyn checked her hearing. " 'Protective'? Not-that-old-argume-!"  
>"I-promise!" He interrupted hastily. "Sweetie, I promise that I'll ask. If I find I need help I'll ask. But right now it's a waiting game and there doesn't need to be the both of us stewing over it. There's nothing practical we can do except to be patient."<p>

Gosalyn shrugged. "Alright, dad."

He straightened. "Meanwhile, you haven't told me your news."  
>Gosalyn startled and quickly turned to the fridge. "Ummm ... I'll just get the sauce." She took a breath to prepare herself for the mood dampening subject.<br>"Gos-a-lyn."  
>Gosalyn felt her father's eyes boring into the back of her head as she grabbed the jar of Mafivanian as well as the bottle of tomato sauce. "It was just my pay cheque."<br>"For?"  
>"Last month. It's the missing one." She put the condiment bottles onto the table and pulled the cheque from her skirt pocket.<br>He scanned it. "It's the same as the others." His frown went even deeper as he fell to contemplation. "Foiled by the inefficiencies of bureaucracy. I was just about your age when I got my first unpleasant experience with 'procedures and protocols' myself."

He handed the cheque back to her. "You have to be a galvanised duck in order to survive in this world."

* * *

><p>"Galvanised duck?" Justin repeated as he appeared through the doorway and climbed up on his chair. "I haven't heard of that person, daddy."<br>"Oh, Justin ..." Drake hesitated as Raya came in shortly after him and sat down. "I was ... just telling your big sister ..."  
>"He's saying I should treat everyone as a suspect who might be lying and trying to trick me." Gosalyn explained. The unfairness of the idea had her feeling flustered. She put down the plastic bowl in front of Catlyn and then turned back to her father. "It's a bit hard without allies, dad. Just look at the first case you and Gizmoduck ended up on."<br>Raya suddenly coughed which caught Gosalyn's attention.  
>"Are you alright, Ray?"<p>

The six year old went red in the face and grabbed for her glass of water before she'd even taken a bite of the loaf.  
>"Well!" Their father uttered in a highly irritated voice which trailed off into a quietly fuming mutter of which only one word Gosalyn could discern which happened to be "Gizmoduck."<br>"Oops." Gosalyn flushed, realising her tactless mistake. "I'm sorry, dad, I-."  
>"Never mind." He gritted. "Just feed Catlyn, Gosalyn." He added in a stiff manner. "Don't worry about me. Let's all just have dinner." He took a breath as he sat down. "There are far more important things to think about than that sycophantic supposer."<br>Except Gosalyn couldn't help but worry about her father. Not now that she'd definitely managed to upset him. And of course he'd be sensitive; he was having trouble solving the case he was on.

"You remember what we talked about truth and lying, kids? What's it called when not everything that's true is helpful?"  
>"That's misdirection!" Justin pronounced.<br>"What about a 'red herring'?" Raya offered.  
>"Yes, that's another term you could use. Basically if you let people misdirect you, you stop being a player and start being a playing piece in their game without even knowing it. And the first thing they use to misdirect you is your own weaknesses. My pride. People can use that against me if I'm not careful. Jealousy is another weakness. So is guilt ... fear."<br>"I'm all confused. I guess that's my weakness." Justin reported, shovelling broccoli onto his fork. "Catlyn, do you know what they're talking about?"  
>Catlyn shook her head. "Nahjus. Makunfutu. Wussagissohda?"<br>"They're just talking about someone who gets on the news sometimes." Raya tried to explain. "You don't want to be on the news, Catlyn. It's bad."  
>"Nubah?"<br>"There are bad people watching the news too, not just us. And then they see you on it and then they have a clue to find you. And then-."

"Okay!" Gosalyn interrupted. "Time out. Enough with the 'and then's, Ray, there's no need to scare the little ones. Nobody's going on any news bulletin, alright? We are a perfectly normal, boring household. We couldn't be any more un-news-worthy if we were the spitting image of the Muddlefoots next door. We're all just fine and quite safe." She turned her attention back to Catlyn and now she noticed her daughter had bits of carrot smushed on her fingers and greenery smeared around her beak. "Where is your spoon, Catlyn?"  
>"Ummm ..." Catlyn blinked back at her. "Madonna, mummy. Madaneesoo matahcoockchee."<p>

"I don't think you got that far, Gosalyn." Her father advised quietly. "It'll be in the cutlery drawer. You'd better hurry; she's nearly finished without you. Maybe once you've gotten her spoon you'd care to sit down as well."

* * *

><p>After dinner and another muddled family tutorial on how to stack the dishwasher they all sat on the lounge to watch the news.<p>

When finally the newscaster concluded by introducing the next show, Gosalyn vented her frustration. "Nothing! You'd think there'd be something on F.O.W.L., Steelbeak, S.H.U.S.H. or at least a hint of something big on the radar."  
>"Like an iceberg? The people on the Titanic weren't that lucky. But as for Steelbeak at least you know one thing: S.H.U.S.H. haven't trumpeted his capture so odds are he's still on the chessboard. So there you have one answer at least." Drake pointed out.<p>

Gosalyn sighed in defeat.

Drake turned to Justin and Raya as the advertisements finished and the next show came on. "Come on you two, time to get cleaned up. There's no need to watch this mindless drivel."

Gosalyn finished her cocoa, feeling incredibly weary. Her mum would be home from the restaurant in another hour or so but there was once again no way Gosalyn could wait up that long. "Come on, Catlyn. It's just you, me and a nice long nap. I hope." She flicked off the TV and went up the stairs.  
>"Macahnatoo."<br>"That's right, everything's fine."  
>"Eebee?"<br>"You're too young to be sceptical. As for what Steelbeak's planning, I have no concrete information and no standing employment contract to oblige anyone at S.H.U.S.H. Even though I haven't officially received the DCM yet, I'm sure even the thickest Slushroom Soup agent could catch the drift that I'm not coming back by now."  
>"Pbbt."<br>"Exactly. You've got it in one, baby."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn got to her room and noticed by the crisp cool air that she'd left her window open. She closed it and then advanced on her nightly argument that was Catlyn and the dreaded crib.<p>

"Now, are you okay to sleep in your bed tonight?"  
>"Bahtaweecul!"<br>Gosalyn looked from the cot to Catlyn. She hadn't used words on this one before. "I'm not sure if that's a yes or a no. Do you need a nappy change?" Gosalyn checked. "Okay, I guess not." She moved to put Catlyn in and her baby duckling squirmed in her grip.  
>"Naha macul mum-my!" Catlyn complained loudly.<br>Gosalyn eyed her duckling. "You really don't like your cot."  
>"Mawahwahm."<br>"Can you say mummy again?"  
>"Yumumummy." Catlyn mumbled, patting her arm.<br>"Close enough."

Gosalyn moved to her own bed and gently lowered Catlyn on top of the covers. "Mummy's just going to get changed, don't go awa-."  
>"A-aah!" Catlyn shrieked. "Macul! Mummy! Nahaahaha!"<br>Gosalyn picked her distressed infant straight back up. "Goodness it's like I sat you on a tyre spike or something." Gosalyn sat down in the same place and she had shock recognition. "... I think I catch your drift, baby. You're not warm enough in the cot." She glanced at the window. As autumn kicked in it would only get colder overnight.

"Aweecul." Catlyn pointed at the crib.  
>"Always? All-ways cold! Whoa, this is awesome, you're talking and you're like, not a week old."<br>"Pbbt."  
>"Oh, you disagree, do you?" Gosalyn turned her daughter to see her face to face. "You don't think you're a smart baby?"<br>Catlyn closed her beak and blinked innocently.  
>"Aha," Gosalyn announced in eminent satisfaction, lightly pressing Catlyn's beak in affection. "A very smart answer." Gosalyn stood up and made to put Catlyn down on the bed again.<br>"Naha-! ... huh?"  
>"It's still warm because mummy was just sitting there. You keep it warm for mummy, now." Gosalyn got changed, watching Catlyn sitting in her spot. "I'm just going to use the bathroom and I'll be right back. Are you coming?"<br>"Mawahm."  
>"I'll be two minutes." Gosalyn backed off to her ensuite door, keeping her eyes on Catlyn. 'Am I going to turn my eyes from her and then is she going to find a way to fall down?' Then she had an idea. She grabbed her pillow and rubbed it to warm it up, then tucked it in front of Catlyn. "You're going to stay still for mummy, aren't you, Catlyn?"<br>Catlyn grabbed onto the pillow and peered over it at her mother. "Huweemummy."  
>Gosalyn took a long breath. "Ookay." She turned and went into the ensuite, leaving the door open.<p>

* * *

><p>She finished in the bathroom and shut the door after her, thinking about Catlyn's last statement.<p>

"You just told me to hurry. That's definitely a sign of a budding genius. If not, at least a sign you're as pushy as your mother." She picked Catlyn up and pulled down the covers, hopping into bed with her duckling in her arms. "I guess the blanket grandma used for your uncle Justin just isn't good enough for you."  
>"Jus?"<br>"Yes," Gosalyn answered as she arranged her pillow, "he was little like you once." Gosalyn snuggled down into her bed and curled her legs up under her. "See, I've made it nice and warm for you."  
>"Wahm." Catlyn replied with relief. "Easgoomummy, thanoo."<p>

Gosalyn watched Catlyn open her beak for a quiet yawn and then bury herself head first under the covers. Gosalyn felt her snuggle up against her middle, under her pyjama top and into her feathers. Gosalyn reached up and turned off her lamp. She closed her eyes, feeling Catlyn soft against her. 'What a nice feeling.' She decided sleepily. "Goodnight, my lovely little Catlyn."


	61. Ch 6 Darkest Hour

_A/n: There are just only so many things you can do in one day and it is just the same for superheroes. If this was not true they would never have invented the word 'hectic' the term 'information overload' or sayings like 'my head is exploding'._

* * *

><p><strong>The Darkest Hour<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Four a.m. Friday Morning)<em>

Gosalyn woke to Catlyn wriggling about in her secure spot. She groaned sleepily and dug Catlyn out from under the covers. "Catlyn, sweetie ..." Gosalyn yawned. "Ooh. What's going on, young lady?"  
>"Mahungeemummy." Catlyn lamented. "Masowee."<br>"Slower, baby, really slowly; mummy's still half-asleep."  
>"Ahma ..." Catlyn took a breath, "huunng-gwee."<br>"Hungry." Gosalyn finally decided drowsily. She sat up and peered blearily at the clock. "Ten past four ... wow. That's a new record." She smiled at Catlyn and took her up in her arms. "Did my good little girl sleep all that while?"  
>"Peas, mummy, foo-od." Catlyn begged.<br>"Okay, okay, sweetie, I'm up."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn staggered into the kitchen and groped blindly in the blazing light for Catlyn's bottle from the cupboard with her spare hand. She turned around and noticed something white on the table before she turned to the fridge. "What's that?" She muttered over the familiar rectangular object as she got Catlyn's bottle filled up. It took her a while to realise it was an open pocket notebook. "Well, duh." She'd only seen one almost every day of her life for the past eight years. She only had like two of them in her room.<p>

Single-handedly Gosalyn put the bottle into the microwave. It was a few more moments as she stood there staring at the digital numbers before she remembered how many seconds Catlyn's drink needed to be in for. Then Gosalyn turned around to investigate the top page of the notebook.

_'Gosalyn, dear, I'm sorry we missed each other this evening. I'll need your help at the restaurant tomorrow for rush hour if you can manage it. Thank you, dear.'_

"Sure, mum." Gosalyn mumbled and turned groggily back to the whirring microwave. "Gosh, Catlyn." She remarked as she rubbed Catlyn's back. "I think you caught your mummy deep asleep this time."  
>"Deebahsseeb?"<br>The microwave counted down and Gosalyn interrupted it just as it started beeping. She sat down at the table and put Catlyn in her lap. After fumbling with the lid and shaking up the contents she splashed a couple drops on her wrist to check the temperature before letting Catlyn's eager fingers latch tightly around the bottle.

As she listened to Catlyn's furious sucking it was just as well that the chair was hard and uncomfortable or Gosalyn would probably have fallen asleep at the kitchen table.

The relentless ticking of the clock in the hall echoed in the silence of the house.

* * *

><p>Then suddenly Gosalyn's hearing pricked and she jerked upright. The downstairs was no longer empty of people; the clock's echo softened and there was a presence. One quiet footstep followed another and another and they were heading in a beeline to the kitchen. The presence was adult but the steps were close together and as the intruder got nearer the faint familiar smell of ocean spray grew. Reassured, Gosalyn slumped back in the chair and her eyes fell on Catlyn's short wispy hair.<p>

"Morning, dad." Gosalyn didn't look up from her glazed stare at Catlyn's fine red locks.  
>"Gosalyn ... you're three quarters asleep."<br>"Gee, I thought it was only half." She blinked painfully and dragged her eyes up to him.  
>"Did you just guess that was me?"<br>"Come on, dad, like Negaduck would ever be that quiet. He's plus I dunno, thirty kilos or something. Gumbo, heavy on the dripping; honey soy, heavy on the buffalo; BBQ, heavy on the meat patty-."  
>"Yeech." Drake grimaced.<br>"He indulges. On the other hand you'd win a 'who can eat the least' competition with a sparrow. In a wrestling match you'd make the paper-weight division."  
>"I'm just light on my feet!" He argued.<p>

"Anyway, I still could have been a cat-burglar."  
>"Uh-huh. A cat burglar heading towards the only light on in the house … with your gait, your weight and your confidence … and your cologne."<br>"Alright. I give up." He sighed. "Cologne." He grizzled. "It's not as if I'm the one who bought it, you know."  
>"It really is fine, dad, you just don't smell like an ordinary night prowler. That's all, I swear. Honker doesn't notice. How was work?"<p>

"Oh, yeah, is that before or after his mother took wheat off his menu?" Drake muttered, sitting down at the table. "Mostly I was just scouting."  
>"Oh, come on, dad, this is the most awake I've been this hour and I just know that isn't all you got up to."<br>"Well ... there were a couple minor disturbances earlier on ..." he hesitated, "a chop shop has quite recently gone out of business."

"Way to go, dad!" Gosalyn smiled enthusiastically, feeling some of the cloud in her head lifting. He smiled back at her.

* * *

><p>Catlyn finished off the bottle with a tiny burp and sigh. "Thanoomummy."<br>"She's really drunk all of that." Drake remarked with some surprise.  
>"Why?" Gosalyn asked as she put the empty bottle on the table and started rubbing Catlyn's back. "Shouldn't she?"<br>"Personally," he said in a conversational tone, "I would have thought at thirty six degrees that juice would be unpalatable. Clearly I'm wrong."  
>"I didn't even think that far." Gosalyn stared at the bit at the bottom of the bottle that was clearly orange coloured and had been since she'd started pouring it.<p>

"She woke up hungry ... I guess at this time in the morning as long as it's warm it doesn't matter what it is ... Dad, Catlyn suffers from cold. It's too cold in the crib for her. That's why she's been waking up; because after three hours on her own she's frozen stiff."  
>"Of course! And once we pick her up that's her problem solved and she's happy again!" He concluded enthusiastically, and then he grew quiet again. "... Gos, I think we'd better try to find out why."<br>"Yeah ..." Gosalyn sighed wearily. "It's not good."

"I'll call in and book her for tomorrow afternoon at the in-house doctors. It's a free service to employees and-."  
>She shook her head. "I can't, dad, not tomorrow. Mum needs me to pull a shift and before that I've got a meeting with Ducklet and Crowder. Maybe it's just me being half asleep but I'm really not up to juggling much more than three extra things in the one afternoon if I can help it."<p>

"Alright, we'll make it Saturday." He decided.  
>"Your doctors work on Saturday?"<br>"As far as I know." Drake shrugged. "If the doctor can find out why, we'll be more comfortable knowing what needs to be done." Drake reached forwards and gently stroked Catlyn's hair. "Still, at first consideration it seems an easy enough problem to get around."  
>"I'm not so sure, dad. The start of autumn's a heck of a time to hatch even before the extra cold sensitivity thing."<br>"There are always warmer clothes we can put on her. And now we know she can drink her juice warm; that's a good thing." He shook his head. "I'm not denouncing the problem. I'm just confident you'll find solutions. Meanwhile, I'll get you that appointment."

Drake looked down at Catlyn again. "You'll have granddad and grandma to take turns looking after you tomorrow night, Catlyn. What do you think of that?"  
>"Andatewmohdaweedahstowee?" Catlyn splurted enthusiastically.<br>"Catlyn ..." Gosalyn repeated herself from earlier, "you need to slow down when you talk." She looked up at her father. "Do you understand what she's saying, granddad?"  
>"It's elementary." He teased her. "Catlyn wants to hear more tales of the daring duck of mystery."<br>"Deedahnawpah!"  
>"... Darkwing Duck and his sidekick." He amended in a less triumphant tone.<br>"What?" Gosalyn said bemused. "Just the two of you? Nobody else?"  
>"I've only told her a couple stories as yet. And we didn't finish the last one."<p>

Gosalyn noticed the dirty bottle on the table. "Yeah, speaking of not finishing things ... would you mind holding her for a minute so I can rinse this?" Gosalyn handed Catlyn over so she could rinse the bottle and put it in the sink.

She eyed the dishwasher's closed door. "Do you think we loaded the dishwasher right this time?"  
>"Maseedishyhiggup." Catlyn pointed at the dishwasher.<br>"I see ..." Drake mused. "If Catlyn's right it would make no difference if we did or not."  
>" 'If Catlyn's right'?" Gosalyn repeated in dismay. "I'll give that Justin can read the manual but Catlyn hasn't been hatched a week. How can she possibly know something the rest of us don't?"<br>"I don't know, Gosalyn, but either Catlyn's been watching MTV or the dishwasher has hiccups." Drake interpreted.  
>"Hiccups? Oh, please." Gosalyn scoffed. "Surely you don't believe that a machine can hiccup, dad? A normal part of the cleaning process could just sound like hiccups to Catlyn. How does she even know what a hiccup is in the first place?"<br>"Well, Herb did have them on Wednesday."  
>"Haynaybah." Catlyn quacked.<br>Gosalyn raised an eyebrow at Catlyn's mimicry.

"What didn't happen on Wednesday?"  
>"The apocalypse." Drake answered offhandedly. "I'm thinking it might be magical hiccups."<br>"Majeekaw higgup." Catlyn repeated firmly from his lap.  
>Gosalyn looked inside the dishwasher. There were three bowls flipped upside down and ... "Didn't Justin tell us to put the big plates on the right side at the back?"<br>"Yahnahwongsigh!" Catlyn quacked. "Eesbah. Issyiggupeasumfinawfoo." Catlyn took a breath.

"Yes ... " Drake said in a resigned voice. "Herb Muddlefoot leaves quite an impression on us all."

"Hmm." Gosalyn shut the dishwasher again. "Perhaps we should do a de-spell. I'll check with mum. Meanwhile ..." She yawned. "A few more hours and Catlyn and I have got to go shopping for work."  
>"Macahtoo?" Catlyn stretched out her arms.<br>"Time for another nap." Gosalyn quickly kissed her dad on the forehead before picking Catlyn up. The scent of fresh salty sea air was heavy on his feathers.

" 'Night, dad."  
>"Sleep well, Gos. Goodnight, Catlyn." He yawned too and stood up. "Comes the dawn departs the duck." He glanced down at the notebook on the table. "You should really spend more time with your mother, Gosalyn. Perhaps you could arrange to do the de-spell together. I'm sure your sister would like to spend more time with you as well. And now that I've had my two cents worth I think I can go to bed. Goodnight, you two." He smiled at Catlyn. "We'll have lots of fun tomorrow, Catlyn."<br>"Oonighyanda."

Gosalyn followed him up the stairs. As she watched the back of her father there was once again a niggling feeling like there was an unanswered question at the back of her mind. Or was it his mind?

The feeling vanished the instant she turned and walked into her room. 'Bed? Yes please!' "Come on, baby, I'll just change your nappy and then it's time for sleep."


	62. Ch 6 Dolly

**Dolly**

* * *

><p><em>(Mid Friday Morning)<em>

Gosalyn had always gone shopping as 'Gosalyn Mallard'. She always bought work materials in cash transactions and assembled them at home. In this case, as she towed Catlyn's stroller behind her through the aisles, the chief thing she, as Gosalyn Mallard, was looking for with this dress was that it had to be any colour but red.

"Can I help you?"  
>Gosalyn turned her head to the store clerk at the counter, "uh, no thanks, I'm just looking." She smiled and turned back to the forest of dresses. When scouting for work materials it was important to remain as inconspicuous as possible.<p>

"That one looks nice for you, Gosalyn." Her first tagalong, Raya pointed to the back wall. Gosalyn saw something potentially nice hanging up on the back wall rack. She manoeuvred Catlyn's stroller around the aisles.

"Gosalyn?"  
>With a shock of recognition at the voice Gosalyn turned around. The girl goose to whom the voice belonged was Pamela Assan from school. Gosalyn noticed Justin behind her, currently staring wide-eyed at Pamela from his post beside the discount racks at the front of the store. Gosalyn looked around her. It could have been worse. There were worse stores to be caught at. Cosmetic jewellery stores were reputation destroying places. Those were the thank-you-but-I'll-just-wait-outside-for-you-Raya sort of places.<p>

"Pam." Gosalyn frowned. "Where are your sycophants?"  
>"My what? What are you on about? Dare I ask?"<br>"Patty and the other sheep."  
>"Parents dragged them like, you know, camping. Sandra Sue's like, you know coming but her dad's like on the skitz again so she's you know late." Pam rolled her eyes. Then she noticed the pram and her eyes went wide. "O-M-G ... So that's why you were off for the last week of term-!"<br>Gosalyn frowned, tensely clutching the handle of Catlyn's stroller. "Wow, Pam, you figured that all out on your own." Gosalyn said in a voice as though Pam were just as much a baby as Catlyn who needed all the encouragement she could get.  
>"Oh, don't get like you know tweaked with me. Everyone at school's gonna hit the floor by this juicy piece of-."<p>

"What's so juicy about it?" Gosalyn snapped. She undid the stroller and picked Catlyn up and sat her on her hip. She dropped the green bag of everything into the seat. "I thought all your gaggle talked about was boys."  
>"No we don't. We talk about like; socially relevant things too you know."<br>"Like what?" Gosalyn scoffed, "nail polish colours and what's the latest 'in' thing?" Gosalyn rolled her eyes.  
>"Pbbt." Catlyn pronounced, pointing at Pam. "Mummy, eessattah doiwee?"<br>Gosalyn looked down and caught Catlyn's big green eyes looking straight into hers. "Yes, sweetie. You nailed it." Gosalyn smiled at her baby girl and then nodded at Pam. "That is a dolly."  
>With her makeup Pam's eyes looked as wide as saucers. "I bet it's Honker. 'Never trust the quiet ones' that's what they say. O-M-G this'll hit like a bomb!" Pam squawked in giddy delight.<p>

"What? Oh, get a grip, Pam," Gosalyn snapped flatly, "quit being weird." Confused, Gosalyn glanced over at Raya by the back wall for some sort of clue. However Raya had the same inscrutable look of severity as she usually did. "What are you on about with Honker, Pam?"  
>"He's the dad. I bet he's the dad. Well, go on; tell me he isn't."<br>Gosalyn stared at Pam. What could she possibly say that wouldn't blow up in her face?  
>'I don't know who the father is' was the truth but how could she possibly say that? On the other hand 'yes he is' would get Honker so much grief at school Gosalyn wouldn't dare.<p>

"Madah?" Catlyn piped in her tiny voice and Gosalyn instantly felt her heart shredding. This conversation topic was over.

"Come on, Catlyn." Gosalyn backed off from Pam, focusing on what the stroller was doing. "We've got other shops to visit."  
>"Oh, don't be tweaked, Gosalyn." Pam said in a fake friendly voice.<br>Gosalyn swallowed a nasty retort. "There's that favourite word of yours again. Have you even checked a dictionary to see if you were using it right?"  
>"Ugh. For dictionary see losereh." Pam rolled her eyes again. "I've always said you've got serious problems dealing with reality, Gosalyn. Just own up to it ... unless you want everyone at school all making up their own stories about this."<br>"Own up to what?" Gosalyn remembered the dress and glanced over. Soundlessly Raya pulled one out, came up and handed it to her. Hopefully it would actually fit Gosalyn. Well, Raya had a good sense of these things.

"That Honker's the dad."  
>"You seem convinced." Gosalyn casually backed over to the counter and fished out the cash to pay for the dress.<br>"Well, from what I've heard all your ex-boyfriends would rather move interstate than come knocking on your door again so there's not many guys left to guess between."  
>"It's all in the dumping technique. I could give you lessons. No bag, thanks." Gosalyn waited for the receipt and her change.<br>"And Honker couldn't act any more suspicious lately if he tried."  
>"He's been my best friend since primary school. He was just worried because I was sick." Gosalyn turned her back to the entrance to have both Pam and the store clerk in view. "Why'd you think it'd be Honker?"<p>

Pam pointed at Catlyn. "I figure she's got to be ... only three weeks old and talking? No way. Unless her dad was a geek. My sister only started talking at one."  
>Gosalyn snorted. "Yeah, I can see it'd take her a while if her genes are anything like yours. But I may be tweaked but I'm not too dim myself."<br>Pam scoffed. "Oh, sure. You only like nearly repeated year three."  
>Gosalyn was bristling. She felt her face flush red. There was a very good reason for that, but you could never reason with a person like Pam.<br>"Go on. It's Honker isn't it?"  
>Gosalyn felt tight in her chest. This wasn't a conversation she could presently conquer and Pam had already set Catlyn off with a question Gosalyn hadn't yet found an answer for.<p>

Gosalyn let go of the stroller, glancing pointedly at Raya and back to the front exit. Raya silently slipped away. 'For those who could not fight, take flight' was something the six year old understood quite well.

Until Gosalyn had an answer she couldn't finish this conversation. Now that she understood the gossip angle it would be a good time to use the fail safe device in her pocket. She duly fished out the vial and flipped open the lid. "Tu trebuie uitat descoperirea ta." She blew across the top of the vial and the amnesiac powder wafted across the store clerk and Pam. Their faces went blank and Gosalyn quickly flipped the lid back on.  
>Gosalyn got the stroller out through the front and back out into the mall and made a swift exit hoping to avoid Pam's straggling friend.<br>"Can I help you?" Gosalyn heard the store clerk ask Pam.

Gosalyn found a nice quiet strip of mall-space to walk along. Raya and Justin crossed the crowd and fell in behind.  
>"Was I supposed to be on look out?" Justin fretted.<br>"No, kiddo, you're fine. There was nothing you could do anyway." Gosalyn answered him weakly. "Don't worry about it."


	63. Ch 6 Geek

**Left Wing Part 63**

* * *

><p><strong>Geeks, Dolls and Babies<strong>

* * *

><p>They made their way through the mall.<p>

Justin, dressed in a pale green polo shirt, trotted in front of them brimming with curiosity and energy for all the sights. Raya had on a white dress with a sunflower pattern and had as much curiosity as Justin only it was the observing kind. These two were getting along famously for a change. They chatted incessantly about all the interesting things that they spotted. There was no severe tone in Raya's voice and no pouting from Justin. It seemed the mall environment was a positive influence.

"Geegbah, mummy?" Catlyn questioned.

Earlier Gosalyn had made it resoundingly clear to them all how short this trip was to simply find a work dress and get a new prepaid phone for her new identity. But she hadn't factored in Pamela and the consequential round of damage control she now needed to do. Courtesy of Pamela Catlyn now had it in her head that something was 'bad'. With a weary sigh Gosalyn found a bench with palms shading it and sat down setting Catlyn down in her lap.

"No, Catlyn, geeks aren't bad."

Justin was standing rather uncomfortably beside Raya. "Gosalyn, can Raya and I go look in that store?" Justin pointed to a shop to their left.  
>Gosalyn looked over at the newsagents. "Go on then. Just don't wreck anything."<br>"We won't. Come on, Raya. I want to see the new comic books."

"Wassageeg mummy?" Catlyn piped.  
>Gosalyn sighed. Barely hatched and Catlyn was already as insistent as her mother. "A geek is someone clever at something like computers or maths, that's all. But it's just that ... well dollies like Pamela ... the girl in the shop ... they just want to be nasty." She frowned, watching the people walking past, losing herself in her own thoughts again. "... It's not like talking early is any guarantee that you're going to become a nuclear physicist later on."<br>"Mucasisis?"  
>"I think you got your brains from your mummy."<br>"Cosahma tawgig?"  
>"Yes, honey. Because you're talking ..." Gosalyn was mildly distracted from the people walking by. Thin, overweight, tall, short ... "You really should try not talking to dollies."<br>There was a problem, however when Gosalyn was looking at the men now.

They were all suspects.

The lanky blonde surfer; the short stubby high vision tradesperson; the rotund Staffordshire bull terrier in the light blue office shirt: any of them. Thanks to her conversation with Pamela Gosalyn's attention was drawn back to the outstanding question since the fireworks factory.

Who was Catlyn's father?

* * *

><p>A woman mallard sporting a complaining child about Justin's height and half the contents of a green grocer in her trolley parked her load at the other end of the chair. She hoisted the child from the trolley seat and sat her uncooperative child clumsily down on the bench.<br>"Barrymore, you've already got a toy." She insisted with a trace of weary frustration. "I told you that was it."  
>"BumummyIwannacolahwingboo!" The child whined as his mother attempted to deflect his attention with the earlier toy she had given in and bought.<br>"Remember you liked this one?" As the boy regarded the toy and weighed it miserably against the thing he didn't have the woman looked directly at Gosalyn and glanced at Catlyn. "Here's something to look forward to." She warned Gosalyn.  
>Gosalyn regarded the boy. Was it just her fanciful memory or didn't Justin behave better than this?<br>"Cana ahma haffah toi too, mummy?" Catlyn queried in a slow clear voice as she pointed at the dinosaur.

'Yikes!' Fortunately Gosalyn had a knack for the verbal quick dodge. "Do you 'need' a toy, Catlyn?" Gosalyn asked back in a judicious business-woman voice that she'd learned from her own mother. "What do you need it for?"  
>Catlyn looked away from her and back at the boy as his mother undid the packing on the dinosaur. "Uh?" She sounded in a puzzled tone.<p>

Quick study or not, the tactics Catlyn normally used to succeed had just fallen short. "I'll be happy to get you something you need, sweetheart." Gosalyn allowed. "But as for toys, mummy thinks you have enough right now."

Catlyn was quiet and a long moment passed as Gosalyn struggled to hold onto her resolution. There was only a little bit of money left. As much as Gosalyn secretly wanted to spend everything on her daughter, Catlyn really might need medicine after the doctor's tomorrow. That reminder steadied Gosalyn's game.  
>"You see?" Gosalyn pulled out the dress she'd bought to explain. "Mummy needs to wear this for work. And the box has a phone in it so the people at mummy's work can talk to mummy without having to call grandpa." Gosalyn tucked the items away in her plain calico bag. "And Raya and Justin are looking in a news agency because they need to be doing something while mummy and you sit here together for a rest. Do you 'need' another toy, Catlyn?"<br>"Um ..." Catlyn looked over at the little boy as his mother put him back in the trolley and was just getting ready to leave.  
>Barrymore was happy, holding tight to the little dinosaur and for the moment the tantrum was diverted.<p>

"No, mummy. Ahma fie. Ahma doeneed ahtoi."  
>Gosalyn smiled quietly at the answer. "I'm glad, sweetie. You let me know if you think you need something. Just like you normally do."<br>Catlyn suddenly smiled. "Ochay, mummy!"  
>Gosalyn could have cried hearing Catlyn's cheery little voice. She found herself desperately hoping that the first thing she'd be buying for Catlyn wasn't going to be medicine.<p>

Barrymore's mother turned her head to regard Catlyn and Gosalyn in a friendly expression. "Well! You've obviously got control of the situation."  
>"Thanks." Gosalyn smiled weakly in return. "But I really owe that success to not having any extra money to spend."<br>"I could say the same thing." She frowned and glanced back at her son. "And yet ..."  
>"I'm lucky, though;" Gosalyn offered as consolation, "there are plenty of hand-me-downs for mine. I can argue so easily because she really does have everything already."<p>

The woman pursed her beak. "It's all very well and good to say it."  
>"No, I mean that I really can't afford to do it at all." Gosalyn marvelled how money always seemed an especially touchy subject to someone pushing a full cart of groceries.<p>

* * *

><p>"I don't get a chance to talk much to other mothers." The woman sat down on the seat. "She's a beautiful duckling."<br>"Thank you." Gosalyn responded, turning her head back down to regard Catlyn with her wispy red hair and her soft white down.  
>"What's your name, darling?" She queried Catlyn.<br>Catlyn looked up at Gosalyn before looking back at the woman and answering. "Catyin." Catlyn returned.  
>"That's a pretty name. How old are you, sweetheart?"<br>"Um ..."  
>Gosalyn's heart leapt for an instant. After Pam's little spaz attack in the clothing shop Gosalyn wasn't sure if she shouldn't keep Catlyn's age a secret too.<p>

"... Fieday. No. Fwiyeeday. Fwiyday owd. Toosday, Wessday, Firsday, Fwiyday."  
>"Uh, yes, it is Friday, that's very good. And after Friday comes Saturday, Sunday, Monday and then it's back to Tuesday again. That's a lot to look forward to, isn't it, Catlyn?"<p>

Gosalyn let out the breath she was holding. Her discussion with her classmate had given Gosalyn a serious case of the heebie-jeebies.  
>Catlyn looked up at Gosalyn as if Gosalyn's sense of relief was a cue. "Issawigh, mummy?"<br>Gosalyn was not about to correct her for the stranger and quietly rubbed Catlyn's back instead of answering. Gosalyn focused on the woman.  
>"Surely ..." The other mother sized Catlyn up, "she's very small for her age?"<br>'Underweight!' Gosalyn's smile froze. Inside she felt herself on the verge of freaking out. Her stomach was churning.

"Do you really think so?"  
>The woman nodded. "Oh, but it might be nothing. All children grow at different speeds. Your GP would know more than me about these things. But still, she does seem a trifle skinny to me; just a little. I should watch her diet if she were mine. Especially since she's your first."<br>"What? How'd you know that?"  
>The woman smiled. "I could just tell, you know. My eldest was an early starter just the same as yours. And I was just as strict with him too!" The mother laughed lightly. "He was quite the little chatterbox by his first birthday." She glanced at Barrymore, entertaining himself with the dinosaur. "This one on the other hand ... barely put two words together till he was nearly two. He still has trouble mumbling a lot of the time." She shrugged.<p>

Gosalyn blinked in some shock. "He's two?"  
>"Barrymore, darling, won't you tell the little girl's mummy how old you are?"<br>"Um ..."  
>"Go on, sweetie. Show her how clever you are."<br>"Thwee ... anahalf!" Barrymore said breathlessly with a big smile on his face. "Igosa dinosaur! Yook."  
>Gosalyn actually didn't know what to say to a child so very different from Justin or even Raya. "Uh ... yes, it's a Raptor. The scientists think that Philosoraptors were one of the smartest dinosaurs ever."<br>"Smart?" Barrymore frowned at his dinosaur. "Dinosaurs go to schoow?"

"Yes, darling, of course they do." His mother interrupted with a nervous air.  
>Gosalyn blinked, slightly stunned. Had she said something wrong again? Was it the fact that dinosaurs didn't exist in the present tense apart from Steggmutt? Why would any mother want to withhold such basic information from her son?<p>

* * *

><p>"How are you going with the potty training?"<br>Gosalyn was startled at the all new topic. This conversation was turning into an on-the-job training session. "You think I should start toilet training her now?"  
>"Well, I'm not the expert, but I started all mine off once they got to walking around for themselves."<br>"Thanks for the advice." Gosalyn blinked, "you have more than two?"  
>"I have six; Barrymore's the youngest. Goodness knows I thought I'd learnt my lesson with the last one." She laughed lightly. "Anyway, I'd better get home before the little one starts asking for junk food. It's been nice chatting with you. I really needed it."<br>"Yes, you too, thanks for the tips."  
>The woman waved at Catlyn. "Goodbye, Catlyn."<br>"Goobai." Catlyn waved back.

Gosalyn mused on the mass of information she'd just been given. Was her duckling really so very small? Was she small enough that Gosalyn should worry?  
>"Towyeetai, mummy? No mah yuchee nabby?"<br>Gosalyn lost her train of thought. "Huh? Uh, nappy? Oh, yes, Catlyn, apparently as soon as you can walk."  
>"Wark." Catlyn repeated. "Isybuf?"<br>Gosalyn couldn't understand Catlyn's last word but decided to give it a miss on figuring it out. "Where was I?" Gosalyn looked at Catlyn; her train of thought was completely gone. She recited her to-do list instead. Home was the first thing on her agenda.

"Come on, sweetie. Let's get home for lunch."

"Yay! Yunsh!" Catlyn quacked happily.  
>Gosalyn stood up and walked over to the news agency. There was a worry over Catlyn's health but all Gosalyn could really do about all this was to wait till the doctor's appointment tomorrow. Until then she had tons of jobs to get through. "Tomorrow's early enough." She decided. Catlyn really wasn't suffering or troubled right now.<p>

"Raya, Justin. Home time."  
>Justin and Raya came up around the tiers. Both of them were beaming.<br>"Alright, what's the joke?" Gosalyn asked. "I could do with a laugh."  
>They looked at each other.<br>"You tell her, Justin."  
>"Raya and me are going to start a card business."<br>"And we're going to call it 'The Not As Bad Poetry Company'." Raya added.  
>"It's a NAB company."<p>

The two fell into fits of giggles. "Get it?"

"Yeah, I got it." A bemused Gosalyn looked back to Catlyn feeling more courage. "Tomorrow we'll go visit the doctor to see why you get so cold, Catlyn. Apart from that mummy thinks you're just as normal as the rest of us madhouse Mallards."

She rallied the troops. "Come on everyone; let's get home so we can all have lunch."


	64. Ch 6 Gorg

_A/n: The postman ate my paragraphs! _

_A/n: Try thinking positively. In lieu of thinking positive try being stubborn._

* * *

><p><strong>The Ant and the Rubber Tree<strong>

* * *

><p>They found a quiet spot near the car park entrance and Gosalyn made a portal for home. They all went upstairs to wash up.<p>

When Gosalyn came down with Catlyn it was Morgana working in the kitchen for a change. "Hi, mum. Dad's not up?"  
>Gosalyn placed Catlyn in the high chair and compared her parents' food preparation techniques. At this moment the knife was hovering over the chopping board slicing the salad on its own as Morgana was remonstrating something with tentacles in the pot over the stove.<p>

"... Get back in there. There's only so much I will tolerate. Thank you."

Her mother turned around. "Uh, Gosalyn. Yes; your father. Well, it's like this ..." There was a sense of delicate propriety in Morgana's hesitation. "The-fact-of-the-matter-is that he can't keep burning the candle on both ends, dear."  
>"So, it's not ..." Gosalyn's voice trailed, "oh, I get it. You gave him a sleeping draft. How'd you get him to take that?"<br>Morgana frowned at her. "You seem to think I tricked him into it."  
>Gosalyn shrugged, "you didn't?"<br>"As a matter of fact your father can be quite a reasonable person about these things."  
>With not a small amount of scepticism Gosalyn snorted. "I'd like to have seen that."<p>

"Well, now." Morgana cleared her throat, warning Gosalyn with the gleam in her eye about her borderline manners. "I hope you're hungry."  
>"Positively!" Gosalyn forced as much appreciation into her voice as possible. "Is that Gorgiobleau in the pot?"<br>"Quite. How's our little Catlyn?"  
>"She's hungry." Gosalyn glanced back at Catlyn. The infant was watching, attention riveted on the hands-free salad assembling activity going on at the bench.<p>

"I'm a little worried." Gosalyn quietly confessed that her troubled feelings had come up again.  
>"What about, dear?"<br>"I've had a couple comments today. Mum, do you think Catlyn's skinny?"  
>"Whether or not she is thin, Gosalyn, she certainly has grown length wise." Morgana quashed that concern.<br>"Well, yes, that's quite true. She wouldn't fit back into her egg." Gosalyn felt a little better with that logic. "But what about her talking?"  
>"I shouldn't fuss on that one at all, dear." Morgana nodded pointedly. "Far better to ask whether she's taking things in and letting them settle."<p>

Gosalyn returned her attention to Catlyn as Morgana turned back to the stew.  
>Catlyn was watching her with a very serious expression. "Ochay, mummy?"<br>"Of course, sweetie." Gosalyn kissed her cheek. "Let me just help grandma to get the food ready, okay?"  
>Catlyn's attention quickly shifted to the bench and fascinated amusement replaced the seriousness. "Gorg!" She pointed and Gosalyn turned around as Morgana quickly grabbed the ladle and parried the Gorgiobleau's tentacles back into the pot.<p>

Morgana took a breath, regarding the pot with a wary battle stance. "I do believe Catlyn's gotten quite apt at getting her meaning across."  
>"Yes, but what I'm asking is; might it be too early for a Normal baby to be getting her meaning across?"<br>"Too early?" Morgana let her eyes leave the pot and looked back at Gosalyn. "I don't especially know those details, Gosalyn; however being a part of this family I should only think that 'early' is an advantage."  
>Gosalyn paused on that, authentic relief washed through her and she sighed. "Thanks mum. I feel so much better now."<p>

She paused, counting present family members for the setting count. "How asleep is dad? Is he out for lunch?"  
>"I should think he'll sleep till about four."<br>"Okay." Gosalyn raised her eyes and focused on spelling the dishes out of the cupboard and sending them to the dining room.

Catlyn started cackling heartily as she watched the dishes sailing out and let out a squeal and then giggled with delight as the cutlery flew past her highchair.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn helped round up the Gorgiobleau and they were soon seating themselves at the dining room table. Gosalyn slotted Catlyn back into the highchair now set up at the dining table. After her talk with Catlyn's grandmother, she realised Catlyn had indeed grown since she no longer needed a towel to help her fit into the seat.<p>

"Are you okay, Gosalyn?" Raya queried, making Gosalyn turn from her thoughts.  
>"Huh? Oh, yes, I'm fine." She reached for the salad spoon, grabbing Catlyn's bowl.<br>"Peas, mummy."  
>Gosalyn turned to Catlyn. "What's the matter, hon?"<br>"Cana ahma haff ..." Catlyn took a breath, "suh gorg too, mummy?" she queried, pointing at the pot of stew.  
>"Omigosh, Catlyn ..." Gosalyn's mind was flying, "that's meat. And it's very hot."<br>"No ... Ahma wanee wahm."  
>"I suppose ..." Gosalyn was undecided. She looked up at her own mother but Morgana could offer no help. Raya and Justin had monster genes and were carnivorous with it.<p>

Another second went by. With a pang Gosalyn wished her dad were here right now. He would know the answer.  
>"Is it because it's warm, honey?" Gosalyn asked, "If you like I can warm up the tomato for you."<br>Catlyn frowned and turned her head back to the pot. At this moment Morgana was helping Justin with filling his dish. Gosalyn looked back at Catlyn.  
>"Ahma hungwee, mummy. Peas gorg?" Catlyn pointed again to the pot.<p>

Gosalyn sighed, calculating up the odds. Out of all the stomachs in this house, only her father's seemed the most sensitive and her mother had toned down on the traditional spices and substituted various ingredients until he could in fact eat this dish. Then of course there was the fact that Catlyn had drunk warm juice that morning. However bizarre that in itself was, Catlyn had gone straight back to sleep after that and it had been Gosalyn's alarm clock that had been the next wake up call. But Catlyn was still an extremely little baby with a brand new immune system.

"I'm sure I've read somewhere that babies shouldn't have meat. I'll heat up the tomato."  
>"No, mummy, peas." Catlyn persisted. "Mummy. Peas gorg. Hungwee, mummy."<p>

The plaintiff note in Catlyn's voice easily won out over the lack of resolve Gosalyn had. "Alright, Catlyn, sweetie. But only a very little bit. And you'll have to wait for it to cool down enough."  
>"Jus wahm." Catlyn nodded in agreement.<p>

Gosalyn put a small ladle of it on her own plate and spread it out across the surface. Gosalyn fetched Catlyn's spoon and tried a chunky bit of the stew. It was delicious, but it was also piping hot. Gosalyn stirred the plate again and waited for as long as her patience would hold. "It's still very hot, baby."

"Just wahm." Catlyn repeated and licked her beak. "Mmm yummy."  
>"Smells good, huh?"<br>"Smez good." Catlyn agreed. "Thangh yoo mummy."  
>Gosalyn tried another chunk. "I think it's right now. But if it's yucky you don't swallow it, okay? You spit it out if it's not right. Okay?"<br>Catlyn nodded, her eyes fixed on the spoon.

Gosalyn put a tiny bit on the tip of the spoon and Catlyn was fast to peck it off.

"Is that nice, Catlyn?"  
>"Weely hungwee mummy!"<br>Gosalyn scooped a little bit more and Catlyn snavelled that just as quickly. Very shortly Catlyn had finished the mini-serve. All Gosalyn could think was to hope Catlyn wouldn't get sick on it.  
>"Nod finees, mummy!" Catlyn pointed to the empty plate. Gosalyn studied the thin streaks on the plate. "You are finished, Catlyn." Gosalyn scraped at the streaks and presented the spoon to Catlyn's eager beak. "See?"<br>Catlyn licked the spoon and then her beak and sighed in defeat. "Ees yummy, mummy."  
>"Well, we'll see how much your stomach agrees and maybe next time you can have more."<br>"Thanyoo, mummy!" Catlyn was cheerful again.

"Now, would you like some tomato?"  
>"Yes peas."<br>"Would you like it warmed up in the microwave?"  
>Catlyn shrugged. "Ees fie, mummy."<p>

Raya snorted from across the table. "You're worse than dad, Gosalyn!" She complained.

Gosalyn was startled as she placed the bowl of tomato pieces on the tray of the high chair. "What do you mean, Raya?"  
>" 'Would you like me to warm it up for you?' " Raya mocked. "At least dad pretends to be all tough and strict. You're not even trying! You're like a ... a wet rag! My sister: the wet rag."<br>"Hey, hey! That's a cheap shot coming from the family's bucket of ice water!" Gosalyn objected vehemently back. "I'll have you know I'm a very tough parent. And strict ... It just so happens that I'm more worried about Catlyn not eating enough than eating too much. It's fair enough too with so many people preying on my insecurities today." Gosalyn frowned at Raya. "You also seem to forget that he was my dad first and he'd had a lot of practice at the job before you came along. Fair cop, Raya, I'm not a week in. Let me settle down. Let me figure out the basic dos and don'ts first like why she gets cold before I can start filling in the bigger picture like _how-_." She stopped herself.

Like how Catlyn came to be.

"Don't forget you need to get ready for your meeting soon, Gosalyn." Morgana broke the tension. "It wouldn't do to miss such an opportunity."

Gosalyn inwardly shrugged the whole drama with Raya not understanding her off and looked back to Catlyn. Her daughter was thoroughly engaged in feeding herself. Fingers in the bowl and then up to be sucking away on a bit of tomato in peace.  
>"Be careful not to suck too hard, Catlyn. Tomatoes are a bit lumpy."<br>Catlyn was instantly coughing and spluttering.  
>Gosalyn rubbed her back. "Sorry, sweetie ... Are you alright?"<br>Catlyn swallowed hard. "Ahmatuhcoochee." She pronounced and without missing a beat she delved into her bowl again.  
>Gosalyn grabbed her own plate to help herself to the stew.<p>

"So greeting cards, huh?" Gosalyn offered a new topic of discussion.  
>"Uh ... yeah ..." Raya responded distantly. "In my craft box I've got all the things to help get us started."<br>"Greeting cards?" Moragan repeated in question.  
>"We're going to sell cards, mummy." Justin said proudly. "I'm good at poetry and Raya's good at spelling."<br>"I can help you with your pricing and marketing campaign." Gosalyn offered.  
>"Indeed." Morgana interjected, catching Gosalyn's eye. "I could also be of some benefit in that regard with my experience."<p>

Raya helped herself to another ladle of stew. "This is really yummy, mummy."  
>"Yes, thank you, mum." Gosalyn and Justin chimed.<br>"Thanyoo Gwamma."  
>Gosalyn beamed at Catlyn and then returned to her stew, musing over her encounter today. "You know I was talking to a lady today with six children-."<br>"Six!" Justin repeated. "She wouldn't want any more or there would be too many to play Cluedo!"  
>Morgana cleared her throat. "I'm sure she just enjoys her children, Justin, and there is no perfect number. Your father and I might have done with one or two but I certainly do not regret choosing to have a third."<br>Justin blushed over his salad. "Thank you, mummy."  
>"-and her little boy that was with her was about Justin's size ..." Gosalyn considered her brother, "but I don't think he was hardly as clever as you."<br>"Really?" Justin flushed pinkly. "When is he going to school?"  
>Gosalyn added up the age, "not next year but the year after."<p>

"Mummy? Could I go to school when he goes to school ... If I'm already the same height as him?" Justin asked in extreme hopefulness.  
>Morgana was thoughtful. "Your father and I will certainly look into it ... that is to say ... it never occurred to me before. It might be possible to send you to school early. But it also might not. There are forms to fill out ... mummy and daddy will find out, sweetie. We shall investigate."<br>"Thank you, mummy." That seemed to satisfy Justin for the moment.

Gosalyn swallowed her last spoonful and turned back to Catlyn, "how are you doing, champ?"  
>Catlyn sighed contentedly. "Ahma finees, mummy."<br>"How's your stomach from all that stew?"

Catlyn smiled. "Sarmohnestime."


	65. Ch 7 Three

_A/n: Wow, what an onerous, soapy, sluggishly slow story. Where are all my usual midnight mayhem and moonlit monster meetings?_

* * *

><p><strong>Left Wing: Part 65<strong>

* * *

><p>CHAPTER SEVEN<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Three<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Friday Afternoon)<em>

The meeting in town with Crowder and Ducklet had been pretty basic. Scarlet had given them her new phone number and together they had decided on what to put on the advertising flyer for the lead guitarist. Even the cynical Scarlet had to admit she was onto a good thing. If they didn't land a single gig these two guys were okay company and the idea of getting back into the music was just king.

As soon as Scarlet got back home Gosalyn grabbed her notepad and took Catlyn next door.

Honker answered.  
>"Hey, Honkman." She ventured, "have you got fifteen minutes? This is important but not urgent."<br>"I-" He sighed and let her in with a knowing shake of his head. "Sure. I can study later."  
>Gosalyn put the bag of everything down, positioned Catlyn's stroller in the lounge room so she could check out the new place and handed her a giant set of colourful plastic keys from the bag at the same time as grabbing out the notepad.<p>

Gosalyn flipped open the cover of the notepad. "There's a chance for you to get into a band, Honker."  
>"Gosalyn, I'm-."<br>"There's auditions the weekend after next." She held it out for him. "Read this."  
>"Auditions?" He repeated and pushed his glasses back up his beak, taking on an entirely different expression. "What sort of band is this?"<br>"Go on: read the imprint from the last page."

Honker grabbed a pencil from his shirt pocket and lightly shaded over the page. Then he squinted at the whites of the indents. "Audition for LEAD GUITARIST. Other talents: Able to sing. Has a wide Reportoirre." He made a slight face as he said the last word.  
>"What?" Gosalyn asked.<br>"No big deal." He answered quickly. "Nobody'd notice."

Gosalyn took the notepad back but couldn't see anything wrong so she moved on with what she had to say. "I've got in as a singer." Gosalyn reported, "these two guys; Ducklet and Crowder; they play bass and drums. But I asked and they're really open to anything. Rock and roll, hard rock, blues. We basically start off on the club circuit and play requests, but they're thinking to make us something even bigger. You've gotta show, Honk, it's a chance that doesn't come around too many times in life."

Honker was as grounded as he was when he'd let her through the door. "With you in my life the chances of anything happening have a habit of increasing at a near exponential rate."  
>"Hey!" He had stated it in a matter-of-fact way but Gosalyn noticed there was an upturn at the corner of his beak. "I understand that term and I still don't know if you're insulting me."<p>

Honker's demeanour changed as he started considering Gosalyn's latest plan seriously. Today Gosalyn was maddened more by the fact that Honker had a whole week to change his mind a hundred times ... and probably would change his mind ... if she couldn't convince him enough right now. Every time these bigger deals came around Gosalyn found herself scared. Not by the deal, but because he might say no. Once, a long time ago one of these so carefully and considerately made decisions of his was to not be her sidekick. It had taken her a while to get over that hurt.

A moment passed as Honker crossed the room pondering. Picking up his red guitar from the stand beside his dad's excessively large entertainment system Honker looked at Catlyn as he sat down in the chair nearby. Then, unplugged, he began to play.

Gosalyn watched the sheer enthralled look on Catlyn's face. It was a treat to see her little girl's expression.

_"She says it's cold outside and she hands me my raincoat_  
><em>She's always worried about things like that<em>  
><em>She swears the moon don't hang quite as high as it used to<em>  
><em>And she only sleeps when it's raining<em>  
><em>And she screams and her voice is straining<em>

_And she says baby_  
><em>It's 3 am I must be lonely<em>  
><em>When she says baby<em>  
><em>Well I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes<em>  
><em>Says the rain's gonna wash away I believe it<em>

_She believes that life is made up of all that you're used to_  
><em>And the clock on the wall has been stuck at three for days, and days<em>  
><em>She thinks that happiness is a mat that sits on her doorway<em>  
><em>But outside it's stopped raining...<em>

_And she says baby_  
><em>It's 3 am I must be lonely<em>  
><em>When she says baby<em>  
><em>Well I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes<em>  
><em>Says the rain's gonna wash away I believe it."<em>

"I think you've got her undivided attention, Honk." Gosalyn giggled when he'd finished.  
>"I haven't heard you laugh for a while, Gosalyn." Honker remarked, smiling back at her. "Yeah, I'll try out. It can't hurt. If they can get someone better they will."<br>Gosalyn felt a thrill of sheer relief and joy. "I've said a hundred times before, Honk. That's a pretty big 'if' because you are the best." She looked back at Catlyn as her parenting responsibilities took over her mind again now the other matter was sorted. "How're you doing, sweetie, not too cold?"

"Cold?"

Gosalyn looked back to Honker. "I dunno, she gets cold sometimes and I can't figure out why. I mean, I understand it at night."  
>"She could just be looking for attention."<br>"Who doesn't? But in this case ... Catlyn, are you warm or cold?"  
>"Wahmmummy."<br>Gosalyn looked back over and grinned when she saw the astonished expression on Honker's face. He was getting the fact that she was clever too. "Yep, yep. What can I say?"

"Maybe you should take her to a doctor to see why she gets cold so suddenly?"

"I am ..." Gosalyn was still uncertain if she really should be as worried as she was feeling. "But she's not sick; she just gets cold sometimes. It doesn't seem particularly odd; it's just not a whole lot of fun. Is it, sweetheart?"  
>"Aee?" Catlyn pointed at the guitar hopefully.<br>Gosalyn giggled. "You must be good, Honk, you're not even plugged in and you've been requested an encore."

"I think we don't have enough time today." Honker apologised to Catlyn.  
>Gosalyn paused. She'd wanted to ask what was going on with Honker but Honker had just reminded her of her tight schedule. "Gosh I'd better get ready for the restaurant. See you later, Honk. Good luck with the studying."<br>"Thanks."

Gosalyn paused in thought. She had to say something, though. "Dad's worrying about you."  
>"I'm alright." Honker responded blandly.<br>Gosalyn had a flash of inspiration on what it was that might be troubling him. "You haven't heard anything back about the scholarship application. Have you?" She realised.  
>"Applications. I've sent out to five different places including St Canard University." Honker amended. "Have you heard back from SCU?"<br>"No ... but SCU is so far from my mental list right now it might just as well have dropped straight off the planet. But anybody'd be a fool not to want you, Honkman." She consoled him. "And if you sent out five - well they can't all be fools." She laughed. "So chill out. Come to the audition. You don't need those books to protect you."

"I would call them more ... my comfort zone. Don't be late for rush hour." He reminded her again.  
>"Oh, no. You're right. I'd better hurry." Gosalyn grabbed up her green bag. She hadn't really wanted to leave but circumstances had other plans. "See you later. Come on, Catlyn."<br>"Goodbye Catlyn, see you later."

"Bye-ee! Thangyoufahmoosie."

Gosalyn glanced back as she passed through the door and noticed Honker had another smile on his face for Catlyn. She didn't have a lot of time to think about it right now but Honker was definitely acting weirder than usual.

* * *

><p><em>3 A.M. by Matchbox Twenty<em>


	66. Ch 7 Reduced

_A/n: Now with better paragraph spacing ... I hope._

_A/n: *Looks at what I've written* 'Wow, intensity.' _

* * *

><p><strong>Reduced<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Friday Evening)<em>

After zipping around tables for the next three hours Gosalyn was right back where she started from and in dire need of a shower.

There was a knocking on her ensuite door. "Gosalyn, there are two grown-ups at the door!" Raya's voice piped through the rush of water.  
>"Where are they from?"<br>"I don't know. I told Justin not to talk to them because they're strangers and we haven't been introduced."  
>"Did you get a look at them through the keyhole?" Gosalyn quickly finished rinsing her hair.<br>"Yes. They're two men dressed in suits. I think they might be S.H.U.S.H."  
>"Why do you think that?" Gosalyn called back, turning off the water.<p>

"They look a bit stuffy, do they?"  
>"Because that's where they said they were from. And they asked for you through the door. They said 'is there a Gosalyn Mallard in the house'. That's when I came to get you."<br>"O-mi-gosh; why-didn't-you-tell-me-sooner!" In a shock of panic Gosalyn got into her dressing gown and tied it around her. She raced down the stairs to answer the door. "I'm coming!"

* * *

><p>Gosalyn felt the sodden damp of her hair trickling down the back of her neck as she pulled open the door. "Yes?" She said breathlessly.<br>"You took your time to answer the door, miss."  
>"What? Is this a game?" Gosalyn muttered flatly with a feeling of anti-climax. They wanted to muck around while she had to get ready for work. "So the wet hair doesn't give away any clues, huh?"<p>

She folded her arms. "I am Gosalyn Mallard and who do you think you are; coming around at this late hour on a Friday evening when people have other places to be?"  
>"I assure you this is far more important than an extra ten minutes at a disco club. This is Agent Darloss and I am Agent Windar. We're from the S.H.U.S.H. recruitment department. We apologise for the late-."<p>

"What d'you mean 'recruitment'?" Gosalyn straightened in confusion. "I think you have the wrong address."  
>"Uh, can we come inside to discuss this privately?" Agent Windar asked.<br>She opened the door wider with a dissatisfied grunt. "Yeah sure; whatever. But d'you wanna hurry up because you caught me right between shifts and if I'm late I can lose my job so you've got about five minutes to explain this ... if you're lucky."  
>They stepped into the lounge room after her and she turned around.<p>

"We, on behalf of S.H.U.S.H., are authorised to formally extend the S.H.U.S.H. cadet training program to one Gosalyn Mallard." Agent Windar stated.  
>"What-?" Gosalyn gaped at the letter that Darloss was holding out.<br>"The S.H.U.S.H. cadetship." Windar explained.  
>She couldn't speak. This could possibly be the biggest insult of her entire life. If this was some sort of game she didn't like it.<p>

Another one of Grizlykoff's tests!

"I'm sorry; I mustn't have a great sense of humour." Gosalyn eyed them haughtily. This was a fool's game and they were wasting her time.  
>"This is not a prank." Windar, clearly the senior officer, advised.<br>"So what's the workload like?"  
>"You would be in barracks with your fellow students during semester, just as you would if you went to a non local university."<br>"24/7 excluding holidays? That's ludicrous! First off, I've got to study; second off, I've got to work; thirdly-."  
>"Miss, this is a career course." Windar interrupted, "The study would get you a job with a chance for advancement. You do not need other study or work."<p>

The idea made Gosalyn snort in derision. "Advancement! Only if you're the teacher's pet. The only other kind of advancement that I'd get for doing things your way is a one-way trip into-a-rubbish-bin!" She finished darkly.

Catlyn started howling upstairs.

"Oh-no! I'm coming, honey. Mummy's coming!" Gosalyn called out to Catlyn as she dashed off up the stairs.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn got to the crib. "It's okay, mummy's here, mummy is right here." She picked her duckling up and Catlyn gave her a sooky, clingy hug. "Hush, it's okay, you're not alone. No one's going to leave you all alone, sweetheart. Grandma will be home shortly, and then you'll get to talk to her. And there'll be grandpa for you to talk to too." Catlyn's cries subsided to sobs. "There." It was near Catlyn's dinner time so no wonder she woke up complaining. "How about we find something for you to nibble on, huh? That'll make you feel better, won't it?" Gosalyn walked down the stairs with Catlyn on her hip.<p>

Unfortunately Gosalyn still had the job of getting the two walking stiffs out of the living room. "Look, fellahs, unless these barracks of yours has a child care service for my daughter, I'm not going."  
>The Agents' faces were filled with contempt for the sight of Catlyn like there was something unseemly about her. "Isn't it slightly irresponsible for a young person with no financial independence to have a child?" Darloss asked.<p>

Gosalyn stalked up to Darloss, fizzing in anger. "Listen, brassy, I don't pick the things that the world dumps on me, I just deal with them."

She scoffed at the agent's white face, "How can someone who's led such a sheltered life as you propose to teach anything of value to someone like me? How can you even dare? No thoughts, no consideration. I'm just the fall guy you're happy to indict so you can go home early; shame on you. I would have expected better from a S.H.U.S.H. Agent as a representative for the people. To tell a single mother your unauthorised opinion that a person who takes up such a responsibility is any less responsible than the person who chooses to abandon it is disgraceful conduct on your behalf! Not only are you questioning my integrity for no practical reason but you're making yourself look like a complete fool by not getting your facts straight before casting judgment. It is simply shameful behaviour, Agent." She stepped away from them.

"Now if you are not out of here by the time I come back from the kitchen, I will personally throw you two paper pushers out with the recycling because I don't have any more time to waste. It's funny you mention financial independence because I need hard cash from the work I do, and you're in my way of doing it right in the here and now. Kindly show yourselves out." She twisted on her heel and stormed into the kitchen.

* * *

><p>"Miss Mallard."<br>"D'oh, yes?" Gosalyn gritted her beak and turned around from the fridge. At this point S.H.U.S.H. Agent Windar was standing as though apologetic on the threshold of the kitchen; "I apologise for my partner's behaviour."  
>"Are you to spend you time apologising to every second person that you meet?" Gosalyn said as she tipped the milk into the bottle. "How does that reflect on S.H.U.S.H.?"<br>"We've been understaffed for the past few-."  
>"I-don't-care-for-reasons." Gosalyn shut the microwave and turned around for a moment. "No amount of reason in the world can make a wrong right." Gosalyn reprimanded coldly.<br>"I'll ... see it gets corrected."  
>"That would be much better." Gosalyn said and powered up the machine.<p>

"But if you really don't intend to take up the cadetship you will have to make your withdrawal formal at your appointment tomorrow."  
>Gosalyn felt acidic. "I might be able to attend." She uttered irritated by her memories of four hour waits, "then again I may not. It rather depends on my standing schedule. I am an extremely busy person and this is disgracefully short notice on the part of your organisation."<p>

Windar nodded, "we ..." he swallowed his excuse, "we understand that most applicants are studying which is why we have set them across the weekends at a time that they are less busy."  
>"Well, as for tomorrow I can come in to S.H.U.S.H. offices but I do not have the hours of a mallrat to wait in line for the hope of an audience. I am an extremely busy person on any day of the week. I will only have an hour in total tomorrow. Can you engineer that meeting within that restriction?"<br>He nodded in relief.

"These interviews are typically short, Miss. Considering that most of our prospective cadets are due for return to school on Monday we have arranged these meetings over the weekend. If you give me the suitable timeslot tomorrow I shall personally rearrange the schedule to ensure you are seen."  
>"It will need to be at thirteen thirty hours. I will be able to stay no longer than an hour. Now please show yourselves out as I now have nine minutes to get to work and I am far from ready."<p>

Gosalyn watched the microwave finish counting down as the front door finally closed and jammed the lid on the now warm bottle with her spare hand. It was luck that Catlyn could feed herself at this point or she would've had to wait another eight minutes for her dinner. Catlyn was trying to grab it as Gosalyn checked the temperature.  
>"I'm sorry you had to wait for mummy to do her Darkwarrior Quack routine." Gosalyn jumped up the stairs with Catlyn still trying to get hold of the drink. As soon as Catlyn was back in her crib she'd snatched the bottle and was sucking furiously. Gosalyn dashed back into the ensuite, grabbing her new red outfit along the way.<p>

In ten minutes time Scarlet arrived in the wing of the Blue Parrot just as the curtain for the last act went down.


	67. Ch 7 Buggin

_A/n: 95k off topic words later ..._

* * *

><p><strong>Left Wing Part 67: Buggin<strong>

* * *

><p>From the little wooden stage Scarlet looked out at the sea of faces that were the Blue Parrot clients. They were paying for a night of variety and vaudeville. The magicked red of Scarlet's new evening gown showed up rich and vibrant. The side slit went up just a little too far but the way the dress hung it modestly folded the slit out of view in most poses. The length of the dress went straight to the floor and all her arms were bare. The neckline didn't compromise her bra, which was a great bonus. This job paid her money so she could be as responsible a mother as she could possibly be. The fact that S.H.U.S.H. was still wasting her time telling her that she wasn't being responsible enough made each one of Scarlet's alter egos positively want to explode.<p>

"... Don't you hate it when you go to your favourite store and ... they've moved everything around? You're standing there lost in the middle of aisle number eight and so you turn to the first store hand you can find. He gives you a sympathetic look and he says to you in a bland voice ... 'the scuzbuckets ... are now near ... the turtle doves ... on aisle fifty two'. 'What-are-they-doing-there?' You exclaim in exasperation and he calmly replies: 'Uhhh ... you don't ... wanna know.'

"That's right, so you think you know where you're going now. Ha-ha-ha-hah. And so you go on down! Past the stand of automatic salt and pepper shakers and the beachboys ..." She glamoured a set of guys in swimmers and walked past them along the stage "and the curtain rods and the cut price coffins, the paint and the compost bins and hang a left at the discount display of mutant trowels ..." Scarlet conjured a few frisky trowel shaped critters that jumped around on the stage "and then you walk all the way on up past the welcome mats and avoid the unwelcome mats," she conjured a furry mat with teeth and jumped back from it as it snapped at her. "You shake the ant dust out of your feathers ..." She brushed her arms and made a shower of fairy dust fall. "And pull the plant pot off your head and you look down and there ... in its own designated little place beside the mops ... on the bottom shelf ..." She bent slightly down on the stage and peered into the imagined spot before her ..."it reads ... 'out of stock' ..."

After her ten minutes of doing straight stand up Scarlet spent the next ten getting a stern lecture from Maxy in his red lit studio office about not arriving early enough and stressing out the crew with thinking she was going to miss her booking.  
>The lean dog dressed in a zebra striped suit without a shirt finished his lecture and sat down amongst the tiger striped cushion of his long window seat that looked down onto the stage. "So what happened to you anyway, Scarlet? You were spitting chips down there."<br>"Oh, these coppers showed up out of the blue." She answered scarcely, "I couldn't shift 'em fast enough. I have to go see 'em tomorrow and have it out properly."  
>"Are you in trouble with the police?"<br>"No, sir," Scarlet frowned down at him, "they're in trouble with me."  
>Maxy laughed, "now there's a story I can believe." He reached up with her pay packet. "Next time make it earlier. Just in case the act before you doesn't make their cue, right?"<br>"Right, Maxy." She nodded mutely. "I'll make it happen."

* * *

><p>Scarlet was desperately in need of an adult word with or without a pinch of salt. The pit of the audience room was crowded making her way to Steelbeak's table difficult. Over the hubbub of voices, she could hear Sheila's voice booming out from the direction Scarlet was heading.<p>

"If you want to have a go at someone you'll have to take it up outside. Dis here is what we civilised folk call a 'peaceful establishment'."  
>Scarlet didn't hear the man's response over the hubbub but whatever he said drew a sharper tone from Sheila.<br>"I don't care what he's taken from you! He's a paying customer and-."

"Not him; the other one!"

Scarlet heard that exclamation quite well from the man. Angling herself around one of the nearby tables she saw the guy was a fox with black tipped ears standing about the same height as Sheila's white tipped fox ears.  
>"Gyah!" Sheila exclaimed back in exasperation, her round drinks tray pressed against the front of her classic black and white serving outfit. "Gimme a break! I don't reckon to be the grand almighty advisor, but it appears to me that if there's a line with a hundred in it or none at all it wouldn't make a difference for yah. Y'don't get in the club if you're not in the queue. Y'don't get on stage if you cain't get your act together. That's the way life goes with everything."<br>The well-dressed man's face crumpled in the gloomy lit room. He opened his mouth to speak but Scarlet couldn't hear anything of his quiet voice.  
>"Look, pal, I'm a bit short on the old sympathy routine but you've clearly just walked in here and had a personal meltdown so I'll just give yah straight up a word of free advice." Sheila sounded less harshly. "Everyone's on their own. Yeh ain't no exception. We all get done in and if yah don't adapt yah die. And that goes for dese here guys you got a beef with too. Now, and I mean right now, pal, I want you to stop harassing Blue Parrot's clientele and take your sorry self out of this building. Pronto-like."<p>

Scarlet moved up beside them. "Is everything alright?" She couldn't help but offer Sheila her assistance.  
>"Yeah, he was just leaving, weren't you?" Sheila answered shortly, standing there glaring pointedly at the man.<br>This close in the dark Scarlet recognised him from the alleyway the other night. Drat, she couldn't remember which identity she was in at the time. "Is everything alright, sir?"  
>Her words drew his eyes to meet hers and a look of plain horror swept over his face. "Yes!" He yipped shrilly and with a quick turn, he dashed up the steps and off towards the exit like the devil was after him.<br>Sheila's voice was apologetic from behind Scarlet; "terribly sorry for that, sir," she stated towards the table "that man's just plain not civilised".  
>"Oh, no worries, Sheils." Steelbeak's voice replied heartily. "Thanks a bunch for getting him outta my face."<p> 


	68. Ch 7 Big Bad Red

**Left Wing: Part 68**

* * *

><p><strong>Big Bad Red<strong>

* * *

><p>The black tipped tail of the fox disappeared from view with Scarlet rushing after him as best she could in her dress. She stopped at the bouncers in black skivvies and bulging arms. "Please come back! I'm sorry I scared you." She looked up and down the empty nighttime streetscape. The overhead street lamps cast warm pockets of glowing colours on the pavement and building walls.<p>

Looking back at the bouncers Scarlet breathed, "D'you guys see a tall fox leaving just now?"

"Yes; he went that way." The left one pointed his muscular arm.  
>Scarlet stared up the street in that direction. There was no sign of anyone at all. "Did either of you hear an engine start up in that direction?"<br>"No."

It didn't take any genius for Scarlet to realise she couldn't go hotfooting around downtown in the middle of the night dressed like this, so Scarlet stepped a careful few paces away from the bouncers and called out into the night after him. "I just want to talk."

Not including the distant post box and the vacant bus stop there was no one out there that she could see from this relative point of safety. So many questions were running through Scarlet's head. What had the fox been arguing about with Steelbeak? What was it that Steelbeak had that the mystery person wanted? Who was 'the other one'? Why was he hanging around the Blue Parrot club? What was the story that earned no sympathy from the hardboiled Sheila?

The cold was creeping up on her in the flimsy dress making Scarlet start rubbing her arms to keep herself warm.  
>"Miss, he's not coming back; you'd better get back inside and warm up again."<br>Scarlet shook herself and sighed. "You're right." She stepped towards the door and took a last glance back up the street. "There's a lot of guys out there that can't face me. I've dealt with that my whole life. This isn't any different." She told herself. Somehow, the sickly feeling inside her told her this time it was different ... it felt like the piano had dropped and all she had left was a frayed piece of rope.

Scarlet reluctantly headed back inside to go talk to someone who actually had the guts to face her.

On the balcony Sheila, in her black and white knee length puff skirt, was serving drinks. "Hey, Sheila," Scarlet stopped to her side, "what was up with that fox guy?" She watched Sheila offloading the drinks from her round tray onto the table for two Blue Parrot customers. "It's like seeing me scared the jeepers out of him."  
>Sheila snorted. "Trust me, don't take it personal like; guys like that see their own funeral everywhere. Thanks, though, I was about to call security to shift the blighter. You ever thought about getting into security?" Sheila glanced over her. "You seem pretty toned. And the work's steady."<br>"Um, I'll think about it, thanks." Scarlet replied dryly.

Watching Sheila sashay away with her empty serving tray Scarlet felt slightly self-conscious that facets of her alter egos kept popping up. Across back to the stage, a deep-throated vocalist sang a sombre country song.

_Every mornin' at the mine you could see him arrive_  
><em>He stood six foot six and weighed two forty five<em>  
><em>Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip<em>  
><em>And everybody knew ya didn't give no lip to Big John.<em>

Scarlet could still see the fox in her mind arguing with Sheila. This guy had dramatically cut and run on her and Scarlet was stewing over his escape. "That man is clearly guilty of something." She grumbled and the idea did not sit well with her. Realising that only made her so much more cross. She needed to find out what he was guilty of.

_Nobody seemed to know where John called home_  
><em>He just drifted into town and stayed all alone.<em>  
><em>He didn't say much, kind of quiet and shy<em>  
><em>And if you spoke at all, you'd just said hi to Big John.<em>  
><em><br>_

On her way back down the stairs to the pit, Scarlet spotted Steelbeak with the potted plants behind him. With his arms leisurely stretched out along the back of the chair Steelbeak looked entirely at ease in his white Armani dinner jacket. It was as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened to him. Probably not: there was no rest for the wicked. Scarlet stepped in front of Steelbeak's table keenly feeling the transition back into the world of the familiar. Steelbeak was an easy book to read. Clear-cut, single minded, focused. Whatever the side he was fighting on Steelbeak belonged to the same black and white world of right, wrong and indifferent that The Quiverwing Quack and Darkwing Duck belonged. People who had the nerve to do what needed to be done.

Scarlet looked down to the occupant of table eight. "Don't you suppose givin' up on a life o' crime might stop people comin' at you so much?"  
>"Nah, they're just fans." He waved his hand leisurely, "exceptin' yeh lovely self a'course, dollface."<br>Scarlet clenched her teeth at his teaser-line. She was so not in the mood. "So what was his deal with you then?"  
>"Pfft." Steelbeak discounted and brushed an imaginary fleck of dust off the shoulder of his immaculate white jacket. "He's barking up the wrong tree. I plain ain't got what he wants."<p>

_With jacks and timbers they started back down_  
><em>Then came that rumble way down in the ground<em>  
><em>And then smoke and gas belched out of that mine<em>  
><em>Everybody knew it was the end of the line for Big John<em>

Continuing in the background the music was fueling a lot of dark emotional charge in the air.

"So you gave up then?" Steelbeak changed the subject. "Wise move. Guys like that need shrinks that charge eight hundred bucks an hour. The best anyone can do is humour 'em until yah figure out a way to make 'em scram." Steelbeak scoffed.

"Hmm." Scarlet covered her sudden alertness. If Steelbeak was dodging a question, Scarlet had to figure out what that meant.

"Drip feeding sympathy'll only do a number on yah. Yeech; makes me gag thinking about it." He continued to talk while Scarlet stared blankly at the table between them. A dodged question meant Steelbeak wasn't showing her all his cards.

"Yah think yeh doing such a community service helping the weak and helpless but how thin are yah really spreading yehself out for lame ducks like him?" Steelbeak shook his head. "It's a hard line for the starry eyed but yeh darn lucky yah got let off this easy. Next thing ya'd know yeh opening up a hospital for the sick 'n deranged. Meanwhile yah got a full hand already with a squawkin' kid, making a living scratching out piece work jobs like this one and I don't wanna know what else." He crossed his arms. "Nah, it ain't the go. Y'gotta have the good sense to let some people go. With a bit 'o luck they'll bury themselves."  
>"Geez, layin' on the fatherly advice a bit thick ain't ya, Steely?" Scarlet teased him.<br>"Just so we're clear I got a real sore spot for no-hope-low-lifes like that." Steelbeak snorted. "It cain't be no surprise to you none 'o that shtick."  
>"No, it isn't; not that." She answered hollowly. "So you met him at the fireworks factory." She stated her conclusion.<br>"Met ain't the word." Steelbeak muttered grimly.  
>"He might be a worker there."<br>"Qui-." He choked. "Go for your life ... go and look him up ... Scarlet." Steelbeak reached for his wine glass, still coughing.

"But ..." He sipped, "I'll bet you a brand new Harrier jet that yeh ol' man's done the legwork weeks ago."  
>"Oh." Scarlet let the sound drop out of her mouth. Her dad hadn't told her anything about his investigation yet.<br>"Haven't even asked him yet, have yah? Why's that, yah reckon? Coz maybe y'got enough of a full hand already?" Steelbeak smiled triumphantly at her. "Go on, pick up a card you don't need. It ain't nuffin' to be ashamed of. Forget about lookin' after yahself an' the kid an' keel over bein' the hero. Then y'won't be no good to nobody and I'll take a one way trip to Miami."  
>Scarlet eyed him quizzically. "So apparently your sole mission in St Canard is to baby-sit me."<br>"I got S.H.U.S.H. in the bag while you're on ice." He shrugged sitting back against the plush bench seat with the greenery behind him. "I got the world on the half shell so long as you ain't there to boost the IQ of that place."  
>Scarlet grimaced at his write up. "Sweet deal for you."<br>"Yeah. Sure. Makin' a motza." He replied, distractedly looking past her shoulder to the stage. "Not him again."  
>Scarlet turned for a moment to see a shaggy dog ventriloquist setting up his act.<p>

"Hi everyone this is Sidney." The puppet mouthed. "And I'm Jack."  
>"Hi."<p>

"The guy's always getting better at it. Dummy's practically speakin' for itself now."  
>"Save the effort and get an AI." Scarlet grumbled. She didn't care about the dog's doll; she wasn't in the mood for his duet jokes; and whether or not he was reasonably good at his act didn't help Scarlet figure out the lead that had vamoosed. Unlike Quackerjack, Scarlet's only fascination with dolls was about how to dismember them. She turned back around. A good suspect had just gotten himself lost and Steelbeak was lying to her in some way.<br>Steelbeak had his eyes fixed on the performance onstage. "Always gotta watch that thing in case it breaks loose." He explained.  
>"D'uh, room for rent; it ain't gonna happen." Scarlet rolled her eyes while Steelbeak watched the dummy act. "It ain't goin' nowhere without a puppeteer."<p>

_"This afternoon I was thinking-."_  
><em>"Did it hurt?"<em>  
><em>"-A little, see I was in the comic store earlier-."<em>  
><em>"Sheesh, if anybody asks me I don't know you."<em>  
><em>"-Well, it's my sisters Birthday coming up-."<em>  
><em>"You don't have a sister."<em>  
><em>"And there are these collectors' toys you can buy in there. They're worth a lot of money but only so long as you keep them in their packet."<em>  
><em>"Let me guess: that's when you hurt yourself by thinking?"<em>  
><em>"So I wondered why people didn't do that with their cars."<em>  
><em>"Uh ... because cars don't come in packets?"<em>  
><em>"You lose money the moment you drive it out of the yard. Can you imagine how much money a 1961 Greyster would be worth today if the first guy who bought it never drove it out of the yard and always kept it on a car trailer instead?"<em>  
><em>"Sheesh, either way the guy's probably retired by now."<em>

Scarlet sighed. It was going to be a long ten minutes.

* * *

><p><em>An: Big Bad John lyrics written by Jimmy Dean_


	69. Ch 7 Victim State

**Left Wing: Part 69**

* * *

><p><strong>Victim State<strong>

* * *

><p>The ventriloquist and his wooden Pinocchio puppet finished making social commentary in the form of a loose string of jokes up on the Blue Parrot club's stage. The moment Scarlet heard the trumpet sound out with a brilliant energy she twisted around in her seat. The curtains were now open and an amateur Dixie quartet had taken the stage playing a classic at a running jump.<p>

_Mr. Whatchacallem, whatcha doing tonight?_  
><em>Hope you're in the mood because I'm feeling just right.<em>  
><em>How's about a corner with a table for two?<em>  
><em>Where the music's mellow is a gay rendezvous.<em>  
><em>There's no chance romancing with a blue attitude.<em>  
><em>You know you got to do some dancing to get in the mood.<em>

_Sister Whatchacallim that's a timely idea!_  
><em>Something swing-a-dilla would be good to my ear!<em>  
><em>Everybody must agree that dancin' has charms,<em>  
><em>When you have that certain lovin' one in your arms!<em>  
><em>Steppin' out with you will be a sweet interlude!<em>  
><em>Oh builder up for that would put me in the mood!<em>

_Mr. Watchacallim, All you needed was fun!_  
><em>You can see the wonders that this evening has done!<em>  
><em>Your feet were so heavy, till they hardly could move!<em>  
><em>Now they're light as feathers and you're right in the groove!<em>  
><em>You were only hungry for some musical food!<em>  
><em>You're positively absolutely in the mood!<em>

Scarlet couldn't help but smile at the musicians. It was going to sound just as awesome once she and Honker teamed up with Ducklet and Crowder.

"So, long time no conversation, toots." Steelbeak's voice called Scarlet's attention back to the table, the rooster, and the overgrown potted plants behind the wooden sculpted banister right behind his head. "I ain't never seen you this quiet. Didn't you got nothin' to say to me before alladat with the nut job? Shoot."  
>Scarlet focused her attention back fully on him. Conversations with Steelbeak were always entertaining. "This one's not loaded. You still got my bow."<br>"You're always loaded, mi ami. And I ain't talking about yeh arrows." He grinned at her. "Incidentally, where's my two hundred bucks?"  
>"I'm wearing it." She gestured to her new red dress.<br>That made him grin even wider as he reviewed her outfit. "Ni-ice. So?"  
>She got up and sat next to him. "I am flattered." Scarlet gave him a peck on the cheek. The career criminal's Eau de Feather cologne was heaviest right up close. "So I've decided not-to-give-you-a-black-eye-for-it!" She reassessed her situation and stood up. "I'd better get back home; I don't even know what time it is anymore."<br>"I thought y'd have a clock in yeh head for all the waiting around yah get up to." The rooster mused quietly.  
>"Y'got the wrong gal."<p>

* * *

><p>Scarlet paused for a moment, thinking back to the fox, thinking back to the accusing S.H.U.S.H. agents earlier. Recalling the face of that agent like there was something criminal about Gosalyn Mallard's maternal status made Scarlet feel sick in her stomach and she sat back down on the seat across the table from Steelbeak. She was young, unmarried, in a financial deficit with a kid of her own to take care of and she had someone 'legitimate' trying to make her feel bad about it.<p>

"I was standing out there forever hoping this guy would get his gander up to come back and talk to me." Scarlet complained. "What more can I do? Chase him? This person doesn't want to be chased. He's scared of me as it is. Sure; it's my fault coz I'm so scary in this flimsy outfit." She snorted at how ridiculous it was.  
>"Why y'wanna chase him anyway; so yah can help the dead-weight? Baggage like that'll suck the life right out o' yah." Steelbeak snorted. "It's a stroke o' dumb luck he caught a classic case o' white-sheet and ghosted out on you when he did. That leaves you with enough strength to take care o' the ankle biter."<p>

Scarlet stared at the rooster.

"So y'reckon it really was him." Scarlet tried to recall the fox's face.

"Y'ain't listenin' to what I'm sayin'!" Steelbeak implored her. "Y'just inferrin' from what I'm not sayin'. Between yeh Darkwarrior Quack routine and yeh Suzie Homemaker routine yah don't got time for hopeless cases like him. Plain and simple."  
>"In my opinion." Scarlet gritted, thinking yet again about the S.H.U.S.H. officers accusing her of being irresponsible for having Catlyn, "abandoning someone is an irresponsible action. You gotta face up to the whole enchilada."<br>Steelbeak sniggered. "Ah, well, toots, he still beat it on yah. S'what'cha gonna do?"  
>Scarlet was annoyed. "You haven't told me what-you-did to him, anyway?"<br>"Now why's it always gotta be that I done somethin'?" Steelbeak complained. "Just because I ain't the one acting the victim in the picture don't make the other guy my victim." Steelbeak lightly tapped his beak. "I'm a genu-ine bona fide victim too, red. D'yah reckon I got my face smashed up in some two-bit crummy street brawl?"  
>"No" Scarlet stared at him. "Whatever it was you weren't expecting it."<br>"So what does that tell you about my sob story?" Steelbeak's eyes glittered angrily. "I just don't act like a victim coz I got pride. I ain't never lowerin' myself to the level of the guy yah saw tonight. That ain't how my parents raised me." He sat back and suddenly started chortling. "Listen to that, will yah? What a piece. Should go tell it to my lawyer. Wanna come to my 'end of the world' party, sweetheart? It's gonna to go off with a real bang. My employer's just tossing up on the best way to set up the fireworks right now."

Scarlet eyed him, wary of the bait and weary from a long emotional evening, "not me; I'm too busy being the raving psycho on aisle fifty two that the store assistants have to clean up. There's just no scuzbuckets when you really need 'em."  
>"You've got me askin': why did they put them near the turtledoves, anyway'?"<br>"Scuz-bucket." Scarlet repeated dully. "It's what I call a guy once I've dated him long enough. You know, coz you know, it's all turtledoves at the start and then after a while, you look into the bucket and the water's all scuzzy."  
>"I like your imagery there, toots."<br>"Thousands wouldn't." She smiled at him. "Take Grizlykoff."  
>"I'm thinking about it." Steelbeak chuckled evilly. "But he looks nowhere near as good as you in that getup of yours."<br>"It must be past my bedtime!" Scarlet shuddered in horror and got up with a start. She pushed in the chair to clear her head of the hideous idea. "Goodnight, Steely."

* * *

><p>Scarlet headed for the sanity of the stage wings and in a dark quiet cement bricked corner of the backstage area, she cast a portal to the back door of the Mallard residence. With a twist of the knob, she was in the kitchen and heading into the hallway.<p>

Drake met her at the foot of the stairs, dressed in his day clothes. He had a rather harried expression on his face. "Alright, from the top: what happened?"

"Where's Catlyn?"  
>"Upstairs asleep. I put a hot water bottle at the bottom of her crib a few minutes ago so we could talk this out."<br>Scarlet took a long breath. "S.H.U.S.H. wants to put me in the barracks."  
>"But that's just the S.H.U.S.H.'s cadet training system. It's all part of your plan. You take the test, you pass the test, they offer you a position in their training barracks, and you decline and go to university on your sports scholarship. I remember that was your plan."<br>"Dad, you're not getting it!"  
>"What? You're taking it like being accepted is an insult."<br>"It is an insult! Don't talk to me in that dismissive tone of yours."  
>Drake scoffed. "I can't imagine how you'd react if you hadn't been accepted."<p>

Scarlet stared at him. "Thanks. As I was saying: That wasn't the point ..." She paused. "Actually I'm not mad about that anymore."  
>He blinked at her. "Then my mission's complete so far. So then what happened at the club?"<p>

"Some guy ran away when I tried to talk to him." Scarlet frowned at him. "Like really ran. Hell-for-leather style. Dad, what did you find out about the fireworks factory incident?"  
>His expression went grim and he rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. "On ... the surface it was okay. Right at the start, it didn't look complicated. Then I started collecting more pieces to the picture. Quiverwing, there's something extremely dangerous lurking underneath all this."<br>"There's something dangerous about the guy at the factory? Does it have something to do with Steelbeak's 'end of the world' party?"  
>"Oh, Steelbeak's just teasing you, honey. F.O.W.L. doesn't have any fireworks left; I gave it all to S.H.U.S.H. two weeks ago ... after a good soaking in a bucket of seawater I might add. Q, it's going to take time before we can tackle this mystery guy." He stressed.<br>Scarlet stared tiredly down at her red clothes. "I must have fallen right out of character. First Steelbeak and now you."

Her dad frowned again. "Please don't follow him, sweetie. Not yet. We need time to get into as strong a position as we can before we can tackle this."  
>"Why, dad, what is it?"<br>Drake gestured his arms wide and then he dropped his resolve. "Q, Launchpad and I have nearly died twice simply from getting too close. It's like ... zombies only not ..." He scratched his head. "Well, it's kind of like remote control zombies only not ..." He grunted, "well, they're sort of not zombies at all but ... well-anyway-there's-a-lot-of-them!" He gritted finally, slightly annoyed at his failed attempt at description.  
>Scarlet blinked at him blearily. "Okay dad." She leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I won't go chasing them. Not until you come up with a better definition anyway." She turned and started up the stairs, remembering Steelbeak's advice. "I do have a lot of Gosalyn Mallard's things to deal with at the moment, anyway."<br>"When the time comes I'll need your help to defeat these guys, Quiverwing."  
>Scarlet turned back on the stair to give her father a tired smile. "Thanks, dad, I love you too. Goodnight."<br>"Goodnight sweetie. Don't leave Catlyn with the hot water bottle for too long. She might overheat while she sleeps."

"Sure." Scarlet nodded and headed up the stairs.

Several minutes later, Gosalyn was dressed down to her pyjamas and had a freshly washed face and brushed teeth. Gosalyn gazed down at Catlyn's sleeping form on the lump that was the hot water bottle at the foot of her crib. Her baby duckling's little beak and eyes were closed in a peaceful expression. Gosalyn scooped Catlyn up out of the crib so the heat of the hot water bottle wouldn't cook her.  
>"Hewoemummy." Catlyn mumbled sleepily and lulled her soft downy head against Gosalyn's chest dropping back to sleep. Gosalyn rocked her for a moment, rubbing her back.<p>

'How can anyone abandon their own child?' Gosalyn silently wondered, recalling the fox in the club, recalling the scathing encounter with the S.H.U.S.H. agents. 'Besides that she's practically perfect in every way.' The man had opened the door for her once weeks ago but tonight the well-dressed fox had taken one look at her and fled in complete terror. It didn't make sense.

Gosalyn went to the window and looked out into the darkness. The lights were all out next door including Honker's room. There was nothing but the sound of the night animals in the garden. The fairies were twinkling around the feeders and flittering around the yard. The gnomes were grunting and shooing the fairies away from their heads while they cleared the leaves from the ground far down below Gosalyn's window.

In any case, bad guy or not, Gosalyn knew that Steelbeak's words made all too much sense. Anyone with that much fear had to be a victim and Gosalyn was flat out getting her own head out of that zone so she could be a strong role model for Catlyn. Catlyn sighed in her sleep and Gosalyn closed the curtain on the shadows in the suburban night. 'It's just you and me for the moment, baby.' Gosalyn resolved sadly. 'I'm really sorry.'

* * *

><p><em>An: In the mood: By The Andrews Sisters, Bette Midler._

_A/n: Please register all complaints in the box at the bottom of the page. Thank you!_


	70. Ch 7 Looks Like

**Left Wing: ****Part 70**

* * *

><p><strong>Looks Like What?<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Saturday Morning)<em>

The next morning after breakfast Catlyn was happily playing on the light blue bunny rug with cars and dolls.

Gosalyn went to her cupboard and dug out her fawn coloured tweed business suit for her 'Gosalyn Mallard versus S.H.U.S.H.' interview. Holding the skirt part against her front Gosalyn realised it wasn't going to fit her in a pink fit. The last time she'd worn the outfit had been for her middle school news reporting gig. That had been years ago and Gosalyn was at least three sizes bigger now. Gosalyn went to her desk by the window and grabbed out her spell book from her array of textbooks and began madly flicking through it.  
>"Aw, come on, there's gotta be a resizing spell!" In desperation she resorted to reading through the index pages.<p>

Eventually Gosalyn sighed in defeat. She looked over at Catlyn in her little green shirt. The shirt went really well with her fluffy red hair and brought out the colour of her green eyes. "At least you're looking good, kiddo."  
>Catlyn held up the fairy princess doll in her hand to Gosalyn. "Mummy?"<br>"I'm sorry, sweetie, mummy doesn't have time to sit down to play ..." Hearing her own words made Gosalyn's heart ache. "Okay, you win."

Right now she didn't have a clue of what to do for Plan B anyway so Gosalyn sat down against the bed on the corner of Catlyn's rug to think it over.  
>Catlyn crawled across the rug and climbed into Gosalyn's lap, bouncing the fairy princess doll up and down in her hand and making it look curiously around at Gosalyn and everything.<br>"So what's with you and dolls anyway, kiddo?" Gosalyn said in bemusement, "I just think they're the most hideous things ever invented."

Catlyn twisted around and held the doll up to Gosalyn's beak and made a kissing sound.  
>"Ew; no!" Gosalyn screwed up her face in mock horror and wiped her beak. "Yerk! It got me! I'm doomed!" Gosalyn made a suffering gagging noise, checking Catlyn's shocked look. "Save me, Catlyn!" She gasped, "I can't ..." Gosalyn coughed weakly "... go on." Gosalyn gave a last pathetic wheeze and closed her eyes. Playing dead she let her arms slump and relaxed her head back against the bed.<p>

There was a beat and then her daughter cracked up into a fit of cackling laughter. "Silly mummy! Yowowhite."

Gosalyn half-opened her eyes to see her little duckling shaking her head with a smile. Catlyn dropped the doll and gave Gosalyn a warm hug. With a smile Gosalyn hugged her back. "No fooling you, huh, Catlyn?"  
>"Nahway." Catlyn giggled. "Yufunnymummy."<p>

Gosalyn picked up the doll and had a goo look at it. It was one of those new dolls that her dad had bought for Raya to try and get her off the bear craze. There was something odd about the way it felt in her hand like it wasn't a doll at all. Gosalyn peered at it curiously and squeezed its middle. The thing turned inside out into a green ghoul. "Whoa!"  
>"Yihee!" Catlyn jumped in her lap in surprise.<p>

Gosalyn twirled the toy around in her fingers. "Actually that's a pretty cool toy." She squeezed it again and it returned to being the dainty fairy princess. "I wonder where grandad picked this one up."  
>Catlyn grabbed it back into her little fists and shook the doll in mystification. She looked back at Gosalyn, holding it up to her in question. "Huh?"<br>"Squeeze it round the middle, honey," Gosalyn advised, "hold it tighter."  
>With a grunt Catlyn tried. She gave up and handed it back to Gosalyn.<br>With a squeeze, Gosalyn turned the doll back into its ghoul form and then handed it back to Catlyn. "See?" Gosalyn studied Catlyn's little fingers. "It takes a bit of strength to do it. You'll get it." She encouraged, "just keep trying."

With her daughter intrigued with the doll's newfound look Gosalyn's mind fell back to her trouble with her own look for the interview she had in a few hours.

Whenever Gosalyn had wardrobe troubles she always asked someone who knew more on the topic. Raya especially since she'd managed to inherit their parents' fashion sense and she also understood the modern world. "Actually, Raya might have even found a spell." Gosalyn sat Catlyn down on the rug and stood up with a glimmer of hope.

* * *

><p>Grabbing her business suit Gosalyn ducked up to the next door along the hall and knocked on the open doorframe of Raya's room. Raya was sitting cross-legged on her neatly made bed. Today her pretty dress with a matching sash had peaches printed all over the white fabric. There was a big book of fairy tales on her lap and she was nursing one of her teddy bears in her arms. The rest of her bear collection surrounded her on all sides. It always looked like a teddy bear picnic in Raya's room.<p>

Gosalyn held out her fawn suit. "Hey, Raya, can you resize clothes?"  
>Raya shook her head. "I shouldn't try it; not unless you want to risk your clothes fitting a gorilla instead of you."<br>Gosalyn slumped in defeat. "Bummer."  
>"Oh, but surely you've got something else to wear, Gos." Raya climbed off her bed.<p>

"Not really." A downfallen Gosalyn followed her sister back to her room where Raya skirted around Catlyn's play area and started consulting Gosalyn's wardrobe. Gosalyn was grateful for her sister's help but was also glum that Plan A hadn't worked. "S.H.U.S.H. people wear business suits."  
>"But weren't you going to give them the brush off anyway?" Raya pulled out Gosalyn's school hockey shirt and dug out her matching sports skirt and socks. "Mummy says clothes aren't supposed to be about fitting in; they're supposed to be about who you are." After handing those to Gosalyn, Raya turned back to the cupboard to fetch out Gosalyn's senior blazer.<br>Gosalyn laid out the set of clothes on the bed. Well, it was a uniform meaning it gave a tidy presentation.

"I love this jacket." Raya stated, smoothing out the blazer a bit more. Then she gestured to the complete set of school gear. "It says 'Gosalyn Mallard is proud to be the Sports Captain of St Canard High School'." Raya turned to her. "You're always somebody, Gosalyn. People look up to you wherever you go because you're brave and strong." Raya hugged her. "I'm really proud to be your sister."  
>"Oh, I love you too, sis." Gosalyn hugged her back, looking down at Raya's long black locks. "It's great having you as my sister too," Gosalyn added with a chuckle, "I wouldn't know what to wear for all these special occasions without you."<p> 


	71. Ch 7 Wet n Wetter

**Wet n Wetter**

* * *

><p>There was a light knock on the open doorframe making Raya pull away from the hug. "Girls?" Morgana asked, ducking her head in. "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt."<p>

"You're up early, mum." Gosalyn remarked.

"Well, yes, it seems to be the only time you're free, Gosalyn. Would you girls like to help Justin and I de-spell the dishwasher? It's developed a case of sughit magice ... er, that is to say ... hiccups."  
>"Yes!" Raya and Gosalyn chimed excitedly.<p>

Gosalyn glanced around and immediately saw Catlyn attempting to climb up onto the bed. "Come on, champ," Gosalyn plucked her up, "no way am I leaving you out of this much fun."  
>"Fun?" Catlyn's eyes were brimming with curiosity; she didn't have a single clue about what they were about to get up to but she already knew that word meant things were about to get interesting. "Yay!"<p>

* * *

><p>Justin was already in the kitchen and was kneeling up on a chair arranging dried herbs on the kitchen table. He smiled up at Gosalyn and Catlyn when they came in. "We just need the wet stuff now." He declared.<p>

Gosalyn sat Catlyn down in her pinewood highchair "Oh, hello, Archie." She greeted the black spidery presence. She needed to check that the dishwasher was empty.

"Yihee!" Catlyn exclaimed.

Gosalyn jumped and whirled around on the spot. "What's the matter?"  
>"Too cwose!" Catlyn was sitting back in her chair with her eyes on Archie sitting on her tray.<br>"Oh, there's no need to be scared." Gosalyn chuckled, scratching her finger along the familiar's back. "Catlyn, this is Archie."

"They've met." Morgana said from across the table, "don't be scared of Archie, Catlyn, he's-."  
>"Fwendwee." Catlyn nodded with a serious face and bravely reached her hand out to touch him.<br>"Gently, Catlyn." Gosalyn said calmly. "He's smaller than you. Gotta remember to be gentle."

Catlyn ran her fingers over Archie's back and then drew her hand away. "Arshees awhaywee!" Catlyn giggled.  
>Gosalyn giggled too. "This is fun, isn't it, Catlyn?"<br>"Yahmuh!" Catlyn's eyes bulged as Archie grumbled and crossed the tray to sit on the edge closest to her. He grumbled expectantly. "Awyewannapet." Catlyn smiled mushily and started petting him again.

"So Archie's right, Gosalyn." Morgana was standing beside her spell book near the fridge. "Catlyn has grown quite a bit since she hatched. Look." Morgana pointed the size difference out.  
>"That's right," Gosalyn turned back and watched Catlyn happily petting Archie. The duckling's bill was clearly above him. "Her egg was smaller than him. Now she's nearly twice his size. I barely even noticed her growing."<p>

"Kids are sneaky that way." Morgana said humorously and looked down to Raya and Justin. "That's why your father is so taken to measuring you all every month."

The discovery made Gosalyn excited. It had to be a super good thing that Catlyn had grown so much already. Perhaps the doctor's appointment that evening wasn't going to be so bad.

* * *

><p>"How are we doing everyone?" Morgana asked brightly.<p>

"Got all the wet stuff we need." Raya reported, levitating a jug of water out of the kitchen sink and putting it next to the other things.  
>"We're all set, mummy." Justin concluded.<br>"Alright." Morgana said happily. "This is a very straightforward spell. Raya, would you like to put the water in the cauldron to start?"

Gosalyn alternated her attention between watching the spell casting and watching Catlyn. Archie was looking after her but Gosalyn's daughter was ultimately her responsibility.  
>Morgana's little bat familiars, Eek and Squeak, landed on Gosalyn's shoulders and chirruped at her.<br>'You're not joining in today?' Squeak asked.  
>'Oh, you're all grown up, that's why,' Eek figured.<p>

Gosalyn petted the pair before they flapped off to the top of the pantry cupboard. She turned back to Catlyn and ran her fingers through her daughter's soft red hair. "When you get a little bit older you can help mummy do what they're doing, sweetheart. Won't that be fun?"  
>"Howard?" Catlyn beamed up at her over Archie. "Warking, toiwetained, speying?"<br>"Huh?" Gosalyn blinked, thinking hard on what Catlyn was trying to say, "uh, sure. Walking is definitely a good choice to be first. But I suppose you don't need to be toilet trained before you start learning how to levitate things."  
>"Toiwetain mummy!" Catlyn quacked in annoyance.<br>"Okay, okay, sweetie, it's your list." Gosalyn backed up. 'Good grief!' She turned her eyes away in a hot blush. 'My daughter has my temper!'

At the last second Gosalyn remembered again to check that the washer was empty and then went back to her post beside Catlyn's chair.  
>"Well, there's no reason this shouldn't work now." Morgana stepped over and added the formula to the soap inlet slots of the dishwashing machine.<p>

Gosalyn watched her pressing the machine on. "D'you think it is fool proof, Mum?"  
>"Yes, of course, Gosalyn. Must you really be so sceptical as your father?"<br>"Oh, I'm not sceptical." Gosalyn watched the machine whirring. "I'm sure it'll stop the hiccups ..."

Right on cue the machine started spluttering. Everyone turned to watch the de-spelling potion bubbling through the air slot.

"It must be done!" Justin clapped and did a cheerful little jig on the spot. "That was quick!"  
>"I suppose it is ..." Raya mused, far less excitable. "It does seem to have stopped making funny noises."<p>

They all stared at the machine for a while longer. It was silently blowing bubbles.

"The timer's stopped." Gosalyn frowned.  
>"Oh dear." Morgana said pensively. "I guess the electronics didn't like the de-spell any more than whatever magic had gotten jammed in there in the first place." Morgana sighed tragically. "Technology is so temperamental."<p>

The machine started to chime and the timer screen went blank. The bubbles stopped.

"Did we wreck it?" Justin asked worriedly, noticing Morgana's concern.  
>"I dunno." Raya stated bluntly. "I want to put a plate in and find out." So saying Raya grabbed the handle of the washer and pulled.<p>

* * *

><p>A wall of water flung the kids back and drenched everyone standing near the machine. Gosalyn dove down to picked Justin up off the sodden floor and put him back on his feet. She pushed her damp fringe out of her eyes. "Full on, huh? You alright, Justin?"<p>

"Erk!" Justin wiped the water out of his eyes and looked up at her. The grossed out expression on his face was priceless.

"I think it's a fair assessment to say you look absolutely yucked out but otherwise fine." Gosalyn reached out for a consoling hug and Justin ducked away from her touch with a squawk of displeasure. "Can't I have a hug?" Gosalyn asked.  
>"No!" Justin quacked crankily. "I'm all wet and horrible." His usually cheery little voice had an irritable note in it.<br>"I'm just as yucky as you." Gosalyn pointed out, a little hurt.  
>"Yeah but that doesn't make it nice!" He grouched.<p>

Gosalyn shrugged and stood up. Catlyn and Archie were fine sitting atop of her sturdy wooden framed highchair. Raya was fine hugging Morgana.

"I must say that was interesting." Their mother stated. "What the deuce do you suppose would cause the dishwasher to behave in such a remarkable way, Gosalyn?"

"Good question ..." Down the front of her Gosalyn's clothes were wet and clingy. She pulled at the edge of her purple shirt to un-bunch the fabric from her middle and it pinged back and returned to sticking to her feathers. There was a greasy, gritty residue to the water. But the dishwashing water couldn't be too dirty so long as the outlet filter was working ...

"Aha ... good question." Gosalyn muttered thoughtfully. She sniffed her fingers and discovered the smell of stale dish-o-wash. She coughed, her eyes watering slightly and she turned her head away for a fresher gulp of air. Despite the presence of the overpowering cleaning chemical Gosalyn had also detected the faintest hint of vegetable matter in the early stages of decomposition; in all probability the soggy, scummy remains of last night's wash cycle. "Yep; it's just as I suspected."

Gosalyn looked over at Morgana with her answer. "There's a very simple explanation for the dishwasher's supposedly atypical behaviour."

A peal of tiny laughter interrupted Gosalyn's serious exposition.

* * *

><p>Behind them Catlyn was cackling away.<p>

Trying to figure out what could be so funny Gosalyn looked objectively around at herself, Morgana, Raya and Justin. They were all completely saturated. The room was a sodden pool. Water was streaming out under the back door. To kick it all off there'd been a great big whoosh when the water escaped and pretty much everyone had squawked in the face of the unexpected. It really was hilarious and Gosalyn joined in the laughter. "I'll get the mop." She giggled.

"Cat-lyn." Justin complained while Gosalyn headed to the broom cupboard near the stove, "how come you didn't get wet?"

"Idee!"

Gosalyn glanced back to see Catlyn pointing to her face. A drop of water had landed on Catlyn's forehead and made her down wet. It was enough three dimensional interaction for a baby duckling as far as Gosalyn was concerned.

Gosalyn pulled out the sponge mop and handed the handle for the rag mop to her mum.

"That's just a little splash." Justin grumbled, making Gosalyn chuckle again. "I thought I was gonna get washed away to sea!"  
>"Well," Raya commented, "I thought I'd just get washed out the front door."<br>"Well who knows how much water would've come out of that thing?" Justin exclaimed. "We used magic."  
>"It was a de-spell, dear." Morgana consoled him, opening the back door. "There was nothing particularly odd only the machine stopped working while it was still full."<p>

"And I suspect it stopped because ..." Gosalyn kept pushing the water away from the internal doorway and back into the kitchen, "the outlet filter is totally jammed with the gammy magic leftovers. Check it. I bet that's why the machine turned itself off. Because it couldn't get rid of the water. I bet it's fine now that it's empty again."

Raya went and pressed the power button on the washer. The timer screen lit up and the machine chimed in greeting. "Yay!" She exclaimed. "Justin, you know how to pull the filter out!" She said excitedly. "Can I have a look?"

In no time at all, Justin had the outlet filter in his little hands. The two of them peered at it. "Yuck." Justin pulled a face. "It's a sludgy-white putty."  
>"Oh, it'll be white because of the de-spell, dear." Morgana stated calmly. "You'd better scrape as much as you can off into the bin before you rinse it." Morgana hummed as she flicked more water out the door with the mop.<p>

"With what?" Justin said grimly with a screwed up face.  
>Raya delved into the top drawer. "Butter knife." She handed it to him cheerily.<br>"Butter knife." Justin repeated in a resigned voice. He took it and started reluctantly scraping the putty off the filter and into the bin under the sink while trying not to look at it too hard. "Ew." He muttered.

Gosalyn started working the water back across the room.

"Good job everyone." Morgana suddenly remarked happily from the doorway.

Raya stepped over Gosalyn's mop and grabbed a paper leaf from the kitchen towel dispenser. She returned and handed it to Justin. "Tissue."  
>"Tissue? What's that for?" Justin asked in a strained voice.<br>"To clean yourself up." Raya said brightly. "You're the one who said 'ew', Justin. Now you've shown you're really brave and had a go you can let me do it." Raya took the knife and the filter from Justin.

"Oh, thank you. I don't like yucky things." He wiped his fingers on the paper towel with relief. Gosalyn felt a little bit sorry for him. The grim look of acceptance on his face made him look a picture of their father. "Mummy, can I please go upstairs and get myself clean again?"  
>"Certainly, sweetheart. You've been very brave." Morgana told him.<br>Justin sloshed past Gosalyn and went upstairs.

Gosalyn raised an eyebrow for her usually dainty little sister. "A bit of scummy gunk doesn't bother you, Ray?"  
>"Where there's life there's also gunk." Raya philosophised while she quietly scraped out the corners. "It's not as if it's out to get us so there's really nothing to worry about, is there?"<p>

"Hum." Gosalyn swished water out from under the table. "Try telling that to our father."  
>Raya went to the sink and began rinsing. "I have."<br>"It didn't work?"  
>"Well, he began telling me this story." Raya announced over the running water. "About Simon's dad and you." Raya paused and turned around. "Do you like Simon's dad, Gosalyn?"<br>"Reggie? Sure, he's okay ... so long as he's in the right company ..." Gosalyn straightened and put the chair she'd been holding out back into place.

Raya turned and fitted the filter back into the bottom of the dishwasher.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn put the mop away and washed her hands in the sink. She moved to tidy up the table and put the leftovers back into the pantry cupboard. Morgana shortly did the same but went to consult the fridge instead.<p>

Gosalyn frowned at Raya's soggy wet dress. "Why don't you go get showered too, Ray? I don't want you turning into 'The Thing That Came from the Dishwasher'," Gosalyn intoned humorously.

"Then we can all have lunch and I can drop you over at Simon's place on my way to S.H.U.S.H. this afternoon. Won't that be nice?"  
>Raya stood up and closed the dishwasher. "Oh, yes, thank you ... You're not scared of his dad, Gosalyn?"<br>"Reggie? Moi?" Gosalyn blinked. "I'm more scared of ..." Gosalyn struggled for something genuinely scary. "I can't think of anything scary at the moment. The doctor's appointment this evening." She immediately realised. "That's scaring me alot."

"Doctor Anatra's really nice. You don't need to worry."  
>"Sure, Ray ... aren't you hungry after all that hard work?" Gosalyn urged.<br>"Yes!" Raya jolted and hurried to the door. "Oh, good morning, daddy."  
>"Good morning, Raya, good morning, everyone." Drake stepped in to the kitchen. "Why is Raya all wet? What happened in here, you lot? Have you been fixing the dishwasher?"<p>

"Gwanda! Eesfeast." Catlyn declared and held up her arms for him to pick her up.

Gosalyn went back to putting condiments on the table while Catlyn excitedly retold the tale as she'd experienced it.

* * *

><p>"... Aneyegoh wettoo."<br>"Oh, did you now?" Drake chuckled. "Ah, the Revenge of the Mallard Family Dishwasher ... I can hardly believe it. You guys have done a really good job. I mean we clearly need a better brand of dish-o-wash ... yeesh ..." Gosalyn smirked to herself as he shuddered. It was clear where Justin got his revulsion from. "... but apart from the repugnant smell the place looks great." Gosalyn levitated the knives and forks from the top drawer and sent them out into the dining room.  
>Catlyn saw the utensils flying away and started cackling.<p>

"I must have done too many ... erm, spells, over the past few weeks and overloaded the machine." Morgana fussed.  
>"It's just a dishwasher, honey. We can replace it. If it comes down to it we can replace the whole kitchen if we have to, can't we, Gos?"<br>"Yep." Gosalyn glanced up at him and then levitated the plates from the cupboard out into the dining room as well. If anyone asked, she and he could tell them a story or two.

"Now the kids know how to fix the dishwasher the next time it overloads which is great!" Drake picked up the wooden high chair with his spare hand. "And if it's a real issue we can just wash up the old fashioned way. I may grizzle a bit when I confuse the pythory for the vinegar but I'd much rather have your spells, honey-wh-oh, hello, Archie." Archie had quickly abandoned the chair and was climbing over Drake. Drake turned his back on the kitchen heading out to the dining room, highchair in one hand, Catlyn in the other and Archie hitching a ride.

"Yihee too cwose!"

"Nonsense, Catlyn, that's nowhere near too close. Now having six arms for yourself? That's what I call being too close." Gosalyn heard his voice receding into the dining room. "You know, Catlyn, Darkwing Duck got turned into a spider once. Can you imagine him having so many arms? What do you suppose he could do with them all?"

Gosalyn chuckled and looked back at Morgana commanding the kitchen knife and lettuce. "Just salad today, Mum? Can I help with anything else?"  
>"No, but I did cook some of those sausages you like yesterday. They're on the bottom shelf."<br>"Wow, thanks, Mum." Gosalyn grabbed the Quackerware container full of cold sausages.

"You'd better have your shower now too." Morgana said firmly.

"Yeah ..." Gosalyn hesitated, "then I get to feed Catlyn." She rolled her eyes and turned for the doorway. "How many times does a girl have to change in one day?" She muttered.  
>"Oh, but you're no ordinary girl, Gosalyn; you're a Mallard." Morgana said from behind. "Quick changes are part of the job."<p>

Gosalyn smiled broadly at her mum's words, heading towards the stairs. She detoured to the doorway of the dining room located behind the stairwell and crossed her arms for a moment, listening to Drake's retelling of Darkwing's Arachnoduck adventure. He was making that culprit radioactive spider sound downright innocent just for Archie's benefit.

Gosalyn paused for a moment. What Drake was doing right now was just what he always did; chase away fear whatever shape it took. Right now it was a furry black spider half Catlyn's size. Gosalyn smiled proudly at her father. There wasn't a single doubt in her mind that she wanted to be just as good as her dad at chasing off her daughter's fears.

Her sodden clothes were starting to bug Gosalyn and she had to turn back from her moment of admiration.

* * *

><p>Halfway up the stairs Justin passed her on his way back down. The smell of floral soap nearly bowled Gosalyn over. "All clean, kiddo?"<p>

"All clean." He reported soberly, sounding a bit like a seasoned war hero rather than her tiny kid brother.  
>"Did you leave any soap in the bottle for Raya?" Gosalyn continued up the stairs.<br>"Dad bought an extra bottle." Justin called back up to her. "He wasn't taking any chances."

"So." Gosalyn giggled in conclusion. "No goo monsters today, Darkwing Duck."


	72. Ch 7 I Declare

**I Formally Declare**

* * *

><p><em>(Saturday Afternoon)<em>

Gosalyn parked the family's bluebird V6 station wagon on the curb beside the grassy knoll that sloped up to the Bushroot's' greenhouse. It was such an easy park it made Gosalyn reconsider the distance to S.H.U.S.H. headquarters. No, it really wasn't more than a few blocks and they had plenty of time to get there. She and Justin could do with the walk.  
>"Okay, everybody; out you get." She got out, shoving the keys in her blazer pocket and went to pull out Catlyn's stroller and hat from the boot.<p>

"Mummy!" Catlyn called out. "Yelpeas."

"Hang on, Catlyn; I'm just getting your stroller. I haven't forgotten you." Gosalyn checked on the back seat. Catlyn was sitting on Justin's old child seat and Raya was sitting in the middle, waiting for Justin to get through the curbside door.

Gosalyn set up the stroller and put Catlyn's bag on the ground before closing the boot. Then she went around and opened Catlyn's door with a smile. Her little girl in Raya's old pink top with the warning 'don't blink' was watching every angle with wide eyes. "You fit really well in that seat, sweetheart."

Catlyn's eyes refocused on Gosalyn. "Yesgedinowasapwobwem." Catlyn demonstrated what she was trying to say by struggling crossly against the seat belt, wriggling in the chair. "See, mummy?"  
>"Well, we don't want you falling out while mummy's driving, do we?" Gosalyn undid the harness. "Did you like the drive?" She doffed the little hat on Catlyn's head.<br>"Ees fun, mummy!" She held out her little arms and Gosalyn extracted her duckling from the seat. Gosalyn straightened out of the car and closed the door. Around the other side, Gosalyn heard the other door close and she took a moment to appreciate the main reason her father had traded in for a newer model car: central locking. With a press of the button in her blazer pocket, every door went 'click'.

"Thank you, Gosalyn." Raya said from the other side of the car. "I'll see you in a while."

Gosalyn didn't know why Raya's words sounded like a challenge but it could just have been Gosalyn's personal sense for mischief. "Oh, no, Raya, I can't just leave my little sister on the side of the road to fend for herself; shame on me!" Gosalyn lifted Catlyn's stroller over the curb and then placed her in it. "What if they're not home?" She went back for the green bag of everything.  
>"They're in, Gosalyn; you don't have to come up." Raya said with a trace of panic. "Gos-a-l-y-n." Raya whined, "You don't have to prove you're brave right n-o-w. You've got S.H.U.S.H. to see and tell them you're not going to play their games anymore."<p>

"Alright, you win this time, Raya." Gosalyn decided. "We'll come get you in about an hour or so. Come on, Justin, let's go for a walk."

* * *

><p>Eventually Gosalyn found herself dragging Catlyn's stroller up the front steps of S.H.U.S.H. headquarters. She replaced Catlyn in her seat and pushed through the glass doors.<br>"Stay close, Justin, sweetie, this place can be very busy during the day. Even on Saturdays."  
>"Okay, Q."<p>

Gosalyn stepped up to the reception desk that overlooked the bustling waiting room. "Gosalyn Mallard. I have an appointment at three o'clock?"  
>The woman checked the clock on her computer. "Gosalyn Mallard, ten minutes early." She began typing that shard of information in. "Please take this form and fill it in."<br>Gosalyn took the clipboard and the handle of the stroller, wheeling over to a seat. She began filling in her details starting with her Citizen ID number.

"Ungh, Q? Help, I'm stuck."

Gosalyn looked up at the mild plaintiff cry across the room. Through the crowd, she could just make out Justin by the vending machine. "Okay, hold on, I'm coming." She placed the clipboard on the chair beside the stroller and crossed the crowded room to rescue Justin. The preschooler had gotten his hand caught up the chute of the lolly machine. Gosalyn pushed the flap up so he could pull his arm back out of the slot. "What were you doing?" She exclaimed. "You can't even eat most of that stuff, Justin."  
>"It was an experiment." He rubbed his arm. "My elbow locked up. It hurt."<br>"Oh, you little knucklehead." Gosalyn ruffled his head feathers and gave him a hug.

Catlyn let out a roaring scream of panic and terror.

Gosalyn jumped up and pushed past the standing crowd to get to Catlyn's stroller. "Sweetie, what's the matter, what happened?" She spied the clipboard on the ground in front of Catlyn. "That board came up and hit you." She picked her crying infant up out of the seat and turned, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room. There was only one way that board could have attacked Catlyn, and that was if someone had run full on into the back of the pram. "It must've been pretty scary for you; some big oaf comes by and knocks your pram almost right over." She looked down at Catlyn's tear streaked down. "Did the nasty board hit you sweetie? Where does it hurt?"  
>Catlyn tearily pointed to her beak. "Mumma."<br>"Aw." Gosalyn gave her a gentle peck and nuzzled her wet cheek. "Feeling better, baby?" She sat down, set to keep Catlyn calm and that meant far away from her stroller, the scene of her fright, for the moment.

"Gosalyn, what do these numbers mean?"  
>Gosalyn looked down at the clipboard that was now in Justin's hands. "That's my citizen number. Everybody has a different number and that's how the government keeps track of us."<br>Justin made a face and looked down at Gosalyn's board. "Can I fill the rest in for you?"  
>"That would be a big help, thanks, kiddo."<br>With Catlyn sitting in her lap Gosalyn talked Justin through all the fields and he wrote as neatly as he could, which was so very nearly legible, Gosalyn praised him for it.

"Gosalyn Mallard?" Came a woman's voice from across the busy room.  
>She took back the form and arms around Catlyn Gosalyn signed her name at the bottom then stood up. "Could you get the stroller for me please, Justin?"<br>"Okay."  
>"Thank you." With the bag slung over her shoulder, Gosalyn handed her form in over the counter and walked up the corridor after the woman.<p>

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry this next bit is going to be a bit boring, kids." Gosalyn said as she stepped into the room after the agent. She put the bag on a chair and got out the travel rug. Left-handedly she unfurled the blanket in the corner of the room, and then put down Catlyn in the centre. After digging out a couple of cars and placing them in front of Catlyn to play with her job was complete for the moment.<p>

Justin sat down near Catlyn on the rug and fetched a book out of his little quack pack. 'The Day of the Triffids?' "Justin!" She knelt down and clasped her hand around his arm, bringing him in front of her, "what have I told you about this?"  
>"You said I couldn't watch the movie." He answered. "You didn't say I couldn't read the book."<br>Drat! That was her trick he was using against her! "Justin, who said you could borrow this book?"  
>"Raya lent it to me."<br>"Raya did?" Gosalyn repeated in surprise.  
>"Oi?" Catlyn's voice interrupted and Gosalyn froze.<p>

Gosalyn slowly turned her head to see the excited look on Catlyn's face. Catlyn was pointing to the chapter book. There were no multiple interpretations available on what she was talking about … not when the cover illustration was of a big lively-looking plant. "No, Catlyn." Gosalyn found her voice had dropped an octave with Darkwarrior Quack trying to break out from under Gosalyn Mallard's control. "This is a book. Not a boy."  
>"Oh." Catlyn immediately lost interest in the book and started playing with the cars.<p>

Gosalyn took a breath and turned her head back to face Justin. "Okay, Justin, I'll play fair and let you have it your own way. But I'm warning you; it's a scary story."  
>Justin nodded. "I like scary stories, Gosalyn."<br>Of course he did because he was his father's son and not to mention the fact that his mother barely even knew the meaning of the word. Gosalyn sighed and ran her fingers through her baby brother's head feathers. "You win, kid. You win."

* * *

><p>Now that she'd finally sorted all that out Gosalyn got up and turned to the agent sitting on the other side of the table.<p>

"Hello, Agent Heruschnike, isn't it?" She frowned in search of her memories.  
>"Uh, yes, Gosalyn Mallard. I'm glad you could come in."<br>"Sir. This is Justin, my brother, and down there is my daughter Catlyn. I'd have three to care for only the older one's started dating a b-o-y."  
>"Boy?" Justin pronounced.<br>"Oi?" Catlyn repeated eagerly.

"D'oh." Gosalyn grumbled darkly and turned back to her daughter to explain, "that's where Raya is, Catlyn, sweetie. They're not here right now." She turned back to the Agent, not keen on sitting down at the table. "So, anyway, the short of it is, sir, that I am not prepared to be a cadet. Frankly I find the suggestion extremely irritating and actually insulting considering the level of my skill and abilities, sir."  
>"Miss Mallard." Agent Heruschnike said kindly, "I do appreciate the importance of family in everyone's life but surely you can imagine there is something to be gained from a cadetship. You can't be a veteran agent without first being a cadet. It's just not the way things are done."<p>

'Don't you see, good grief, are you all really so thick?' Gosalyn thought wildly.

Gosalyn pulled out her wallet and forked out her licenses. "Sir. I have a truck license. I have a forklift license. Here's my marine transport license. That's my motorbike license. I was all set to get my flying license but then I had to ... to put it off for a bit, sir." She gritted. Her S.H.U.S.H. hours had skyrocketed under Grizlykoff's Directorship and her self-confidence had equally plummeted. "Sir, may I ask what my entrance exam test score was?"  
>"98%. There was only one other entrant with a similarly high score."<p>

'Sheesh,' Gosalyn groaned inwardly, 'I bet the other two percent was because I didn't write the exact 'conventional' calculations to back up the correct answer that they wanted.' She closed her eyes to find her patience again and then put her hands on the table and leaned forwards. "Agent Heruschnike, sir. I would like to thank you for your-."

Catlyn make a loud crashing sound with her mouth interrupting Gosalyn. Justin shrieked, throwing the chapter book right across the room. It almost hit the interviewing agent on the head.

"Cat-lyn!" Justin complained loudly as Gosalyn's duckling girl pealed in tiny laughter. "You did that on pur-pose!"  
>Gosalyn raised an eyebrow and twisted on the spot. "What is the matter, Justin?" Gosalyn said, keeping her face as straight as she could, "I thought you said you liked getting scared?"<br>"But I was reading a book! I'm not expecting sound effects!"  
>"Expect the unexpected." Gosalyn advised with a giggle. Family was the best thing on the whole entire planet. Mallard home life was never dull.<p>

"Was it good timing, was it?"  
>"She must've been watching my face, Q. She did it on purpose."<br>Gosalyn turned back and took the book from the agent from across the table. "Thanks." Gosalyn sat leisurely down in her chair and flicked through the pages. What bit had he been reading?

"She's just a baby, Justin." Agent Heruschnike discounted. "She couldn't do it on purpose."  
>"She's clever." Gosalyn disagreed glancing over, "and Justin isn't usually jittery. What page were you on, honey?"<br>"I don't know. Let me find it." Justin scoured through the book. "That's the one."  
>Gosalyn glanced down the page. "Yes, really good timing." She handed the book back to him with a broad smile. "You wanted a scare. Catlyn obliged."<p>

Justin scrunched up his face. "When you say it that way, it sounds fine, but that's not what she meant." Justin pouted.  
>"I'm sorry, Justin, but you're going to have to get used to this sort of mischief because it's genetic. Pop your book away; we're leaving shortly." She turned to the agent. "Sir, I apologise for bringing my home life here, but I am the designated babysitter at this hour of the day. Now, as I was just finishing, I formally decline the cadetship offer, sir."<p>

"Why did you do the test, Gosalyn? Is this a recent change of mind?"

"Sir, the reason I did the test was to prove to myself that I was good enough, sir. It was just an ego thing, and I've needed a lot of help in that department over the last few months, sir." She picked up Catlyn and put her in the stroller, replaced the trucks in her giant bag of everything and folded up the rug, stowing it away as well. "Good day, Agent Heruschnike."

Without another word Gosalyn took Catlyn and led Justin out of the building.


	73. Ch 7 Walk

_a/n: let me just post this ..._

* * *

><p><strong>LEFT WING: <strong>**PART 73**

* * *

><p><strong>Walk<strong>

* * *

><p>It was a sunny autumn afternoon and Gosalyn was walking along the quiet weekend streets with Catlyn and Justin. Her current mission was much simpler than her previous S.H.U.S.H. assignment. All she was up to right now was collecting Raya from the Bushroot greenhouse and driving back home.<p>

"Thanks, you two," Gosalyn told Justin and Catlyn fondly, "that was the most fun I've had at S.H.U.S.H. for ages." While she did want to return to S.H.U.S.H. she most certainly did not want to be doing it as a cadet. Gosalyn felt a great sense of freedom now that she'd dealt with the matter.

The Bushroot greenhouse jumped into view around the last corner. "Come on, Justin." Gosalyn marshalled her miniature brother; "Let's go say hello to Simon's family."  
>"Raya didn't want us to." Justin fretted as he trotted beside her.<br>"No, Justin, she said she didn't want us to see her in. She didn't say anything about us collecting her. Admit it, kiddo, you're just scared of Triffids." Gosalyn teased.  
>There was a beat. "I am not scared of any fictional characters ever!" Justin puffed out his chest in proud defiance.<br>"Them's fighting words, Darkwing Half-Pint." Gosalyn chuckled, tousling his head feathers affectionately.

"So what are you scared of then, Justin? Lycium Nycanthropus, Lycium Nycanthropus Carnivorous or the giant Venus flytrap they keep as a pet?"  
>"Miss Raya Mallard." Justin answered plaintively. "'She's gonna be mad."<br>"Whoops. Monstra Mallardium; you've got me on that one." Gosalyn stared at the greenhouse looming at the top of the hill before them. "Well, you can say it was my fault."  
>"But it 'is' your fault, Gosalyn." Justin stated the obvious. "We don't have to go in. We can just stand out here and give Raya a mental message instead, and-."<br>"Whoa! That's it! This has gone far enough!" Gosalyn made up her mind instantly. "Of all the ridiculous things I've ever heard, and believe me that's no short order; this just takes the cake!" Gosalyn fumed. "Fall in step, Justin." Gosalyn directed him and she charged up the path. "You're going to learn something today, kiddo." Gosalyn stated bluntly. Three quarters up the path she checked to see that Justin was keeping up. "Heroes aren't born heroes, you know; they make themselves. And the first step they take is to stand up for themselves. If you can't save yourself ... well, let's just say you're going to have a short career."

Gosalyn wheeled Catlyn to the front of the greenhouse. She gazed down at Justin. "Do you want to find that little hero inside you, Justin?"  
>"Yes, Q." Justin nodded.<br>"Then I've got faith you'll find it, kiddo." Gosalyn beamed with pride. "Wanna start by doing the knocking, 'hero'?"  
>Justin turned to the glass door and boldly knocked on it.<p>

* * *

><p>The door burst open with a rush of air. "Gosalyn!" Reginald exclaimed. His face was beaming and a second later Gosalyn was in his tight leafy hug. "Oh, Gosalyn!" He drew back and regarded her. "I've been so worried about you!" He cupped her chin in his leafy fingers. "I haven't heard your motorbike in weeks. Not since there was that big explosion downtown with the cars. I must say you look alright for being in a car accident."<br>"I'm fine; I got out of it. I didn't get hurt. I've just had some time off; that's all." Gosalyn stepped away from him.  
>"I know, I know, you're 'fine', I've heard that one already." Reginald sighed, cooling off a little, "but it's one thing to be told you're 'fine' and another thing to seeing you, Gosalyn." He eyed her quizzically, "have you noticed how Simon and Raya both have an uncanny knack for circumspection?" Reginald folded his viny arms, "why, it's almost as if they were keeping secrets." He chuckled in good humour. "Kids."<br>"Uh, yeah, it's one great adventure for them, I guess." Gosalyn felt a blush. Reginald had really been worrying about her!

"Hello, Mr. Bushroot."  
>"Oh, hello there, Justin. My you have shot right up, haven't you?" Reginald smiled and waved back at Gosalyn's little brother. "Go on in."<br>"Um, Reggie, this is Cat-." Gosalyn gestured down to the stroller and discovered Catlyn wasn't there anymore. "-lyn. Well, Catlyn 'was' there."  
>"Oh dear!"<p>

Gosalyn quickly glanced around at the lawn and tidy hedges behind her then forward into the mysterious jungle of variety inside the greenhouse. "I expect the effects of curiosity will have drawn her inside." Gosalyn put the green bag in Catlyn's seat.  
>"Then she'll be fine." Reginald breathed in relief. "The greenhouse is perfectly kid safe."<br>Gosalyn eyed him sceptically, "thank you, Reggie, but there's just one teensy thing wrong with that theory: Catlyn's not just any child, she's 'my' daughter. She's already made her first practical joke."

"Oh, now I know you're just being melodramatic. She'd be too small to be that destructive just yet." Reginald hesitated, looking at Gosalyn's face as she glared pointedly at him. "But we'd better find her anyway." Reginald decided nervously backing up in through the doorway. "It's always important to know where they are."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn followed Reginald inside his greenhouse with the empty stroller.<p>

"Simon told us you had your own little one now." Reginald said conversationally. "Is the father that big guy with the IQ of a compost bin?"  
>"No, I ditched that guy."<br>"Well, I must say that was sensible. So who's the new one?"  
>"I ... don't know." Gosalyn grimaced, keeping her eyes peeled for Catlyn. "I scared this one off before I had a proper chance to find out who he was. Can you see her? She's wearing a pink top."<p>

"Oh, don't believe that it was your fault for one second, Gosalyn! Only the worst sort of coward would leave their own child behind." Reginald huffed and trekked slowly through the maze of plant corridors. "I don't see her yet. Gosh she moves as fast as mine did at her age."  
>"Yeah." Gosalyn smiled proudly, "There are a couple other theories I've got floating around about her father." Gosalyn gritted, "like how there's a lot of responsibility involved in being a proper dad." Gosalyn gritted unhappily.<br>"That doesn't explain it enough for my liking. I'd never run away so long as the kids need me to look after them. They're my everything."  
>"But that's you, Reggie. Besides, your wife isn't scary like I am." Gosalyn grumbled, still looking around the dirt floor of the greenhouse for a glimpse of Catlyn.<p>

"Darkwarrior Quack. Complete with pointy tail and pitchfork. Catlyn, where are you, sweetie?"  
>"But that theory makes even less sense!" Reginald argued, "Because the simple fact of the matter is that you're not Darkwarrior Quack. You're a nice, and for that matter sane, person, Gosalyn. Even when you are acting all scary; deep down that's who you are on the inside." Reginald turned to her and they stopped between the tiers of plants. "That's what makes you so likeable, Gos. If Catlyn's father didn't like you in the first place, Gosalyn, nothing would have happened in the second place and we wouldn't be standing here in the fourth place trying to figure it out. Or was that the fifth place?" He scratched his head.<br>"Fifth." Gosalyn corrected him, "So, going along with your theory for a moment, what do you suppose could have changed in the third place?" Gosalyn asked.  
>"I don't know. But was it you, Gosalyn?"<br>"...No ..."

"So then if you haven't changed you can't be the reason for a change in his behaviour."  
>"Wow, that actually makes a lot of sense!" Gosalyn gaped at him for a moment. I don't remember you being so good at debating, Reggie."<br>"Let's just say," Reginald's serious expression softened, "that I've been getting a lot of practice."

"So if I'm not the reason then it must be something pretty serious on his end." Gosalyn mused flatly, kneeling down and casting her eyes beneath the bottom shelves of plant embankments for something fluffy white with a tuft of red hair crawling around in a pink top. She saw her duckling just beyond the embankment. "There she is, Reggie, just through there!"  
>"Keep watch on her, Spike!" Reginald directed his pet over Gosalyn's head, "we'll be right there." Reginald caught Gosalyn's gaze. "Follow me, Gos."<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn followed Reginald's lead and they found Catlyn sitting on the ground, head upturned. Catlyn was engaged in an intense close beaked non-verbal conversation with the giant pet Venus flytrap. Spike looked confused and puzzled about what he should do with Catlyn and Catlyn's expression was extremely serious as she eyeballed him. Intrigued as to what would happen next in this first encounter between the pair Gosalyn watched Spike put his pod head down near Catlyn's bill. After a moment of narrow-eyed thought, Catlyn made a decision and started petting him. A moment later the ever-affectionate Spike had licked her.<br>"Yihee! Too cwose!" Catlyn squawked falling backwards onto her back.

Gosalyn took a step forward to console Catlyn and then changed her mind. This was good training for the future. "Now you've met Spike, Catlyn," Gosalyn announced matter-of-factly, "and you were very grown up about it too."  
>Wriggling around till she was sitting back up Catlyn grabbed her hat from the ground and rubbed her face with it. "Yehweh." Catlyn said in an unimpressed tone and dropped her hat back on the ground. She watched Gosalyn for a moment and then tried getting up on her feet. Catlyn sank quickly down on her knees.<br>"Good try, sweetheart!" Gosalyn jumped excitedly in her spot beside Reginald and clapped her hands.

Catlyn sat back onto her nappy and stared at her little webbed feet. "Sisarms, mummy!" She pointed at her webbed feet and then at Spike's roots. She kicked her feet angrily. "Mawahsisarmslighe Arshee!" She quacked. "Eesenfaireesmaladahma!"  
>"Wow!" Gosalyn yelped at her daughters tirade. "Okay! Time out!" Gosalyn picked Catlyn up from the ground. "It's okay, sweetie-pie." Gosalyn cooed. "Your legs just need to get a bit stronger; it's just a minor setback. If you can't do something the first time you try, you just have to keep practicing until you can do it. Keep practicing and you'll get it, Catlyn, it's as simple as that. Remember grandpa's Darkwing Duck stories? Nobody gets it the first time and no temper tantrum ever solved a problem; a bad temper only gets in your way and makes things harder." Gosalyn finished preaching. "You're fine. Everything's fine. No little setback is going to stop Catlyn Mallard, is it?"<p>

"Now how about we try it again together, sweetie-pie, and this time without the temper." Gosalyn knelt down on the dirt floor and held Catlyn up on her feet in front of her. Gosalyn gently let go of Catlyn's middle and the duckling kept her stand for a few moments before sinking to a seat again. "Well done, Catlyn. See; you're doing better already. And you held your temper. Mummy's very proud of you."

Catlyn twisted around and climbed up into Gosalyn's lap for a sooky hug.  
>"Aw, sweetie." Gosalyn hugged her daughter back and brushed the dirt off her nappy. Spike's slobber had made Catlyn a bit stickier than she usually was. "Better take a break now. We've still got to go see doctor Anatra today." Gosalyn stood up with Catlyn.<p>

"She's adorable." Reginald declared. "And she looks just like you, too."  
>"She also acts a bit like me too." Gosalyn blushed and turned slightly so Catlyn could see him. "Say hello to Mr. Bushroot, Catlyn."<br>"Hewoh." Catlyn smiled and waved then her smile disappeared. She peered her head down over Gosalyn's arm and pointed at Reginald's roots. "Sisarms, mummy." She declared severely.  
>"Oh, no. I don't have six arms, Catlyn." Reginald advised her cheerily. "I just have roots where you have feet. Spike has roots too."<br>"Oh." Catlyn scratched her head. "Roos?"  
>"Well, there's a stumper for you." Gosalyn giggled and offered Catlyn to Reginald to hold.<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn fetched Catlyn's hat off the ground. The layer of sticky carnivorous plant spittle now had an extra dirt topping. "Oh, lovely." She had a go at shaking off some of the dirt. "Now, what was it that Raya said about gunk, Catlyn, do you remember?"<br>"Whesyifesgunk!" Catlyn answered brightly from Reginald's arms.  
>"Yep." Gosalyn went to the green bag and pulled out a spare refuse bag.<br>Reginald sighed contentedly and hugged Catlyn close. "They're so soft when they're this little."  
>"Yeah." Gosalyn smiled back. "And being between bad moods sure helps."<p>

"Aw, come on now, Gos." Reginald nuzzled Catlyn's cheek. "We all get a bit frustrated sometimes. It's perfectly normal."  
>"Yeah." Gosalyn sighed, rubbing her head. "I suppose so."<p>

* * *

><p>It was a nice moment to be in but Gosalyn's urge to keep moving was starting to itch. "Well, we'd better be off." Gosalyn twisted around, "Justin, Raya, time to get going." She smiled at Reginald, "thanks for the pep talk, Reggie."<p>

"You don't need a pep talk." Reginald smiled at her, "but I can tell that you do need to go for a ride on your motorbike."


	74. Ch 7 Weekender

**LEFT WING: PART 74**

**A Proper Weekend**

* * *

><p>When Gosalyn pulled into the drive, she told the children what she was up to next. "We're just going over to see Honker, guys; I've got a few things I want to talk to him about."<br>"Can we have the keys then, please, Gosalyn?" Justin begged her. "I'm thirsty."  
>"Sure." Gosalyn handed over the keys and went round to knock on Honker's door, baby duckling on her hip.<p>

The door opened up. "Hello, young Gosalyn." Binkie double took Catlyn with a beaming face. "Oh, my! Hasn't she just shot right up?"  
>"I'll take that as a compliment." Gosalyn beamed at Honker's mum, "Mrs. Muddlefoot, can I talk to Honker?"<br>"I'm sorry, dear. Honker's gone out for a while."  
>"Oh, that's ... he's gone out?" Gosalyn blinked in confusion. "When did he leave? Where to? When will he be back?"<br>"I don't know, dear; he took the car. I can tell him when he comes back to go see you."  
>"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks, Mrs. Muddlefoot."<p>

The door closed and Gosalyn walked back down the pathway in a daze. Where had Honker gone without telling her?  
>"Well, he doesn't have to tell me everything." She grunted, chiding herself. She glanced back at the upstairs windows of the Muddlefoot residence. Still, it was odd that he hadn't said anything.<p>

"Mafirseasmummy?"  
>Gosalyn shook herself into the present again. "Slow down, Catlyn." She looked to Catlyn in her arms. "Now, what do you want?"<br>Catlyn pointed in the direction of the Mallard house. "Ma-firsy-peas-mummy."  
>"Do you want a drink? Is that what you're saying?"<br>Catlyn smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "Dweenkeesmummy." She took a breath. "Dweenk-peas-mummy."  
>"Okay, honey, let's go get you a drink."<p>

* * *

><p>Shortly seated at the kitchen table, Gosalyn was gently tipping the glass of water into Catlyn's beak. "I swear you're getting bigger, Catlyn."<br>Catlyn gulped, looking up at her with her wide eyes, fluffy white cheeks and dainty little beak. "Igga?"  
>Gosalyn giggled, feeling a little better. She still felt a bit lost without having Honker to talk to about her afternoon adventures. "It's just you and me, kiddo. And you know what? We can do it."<p>

Gosalyn held up the glass. "Want some more, honey?"  
>"Nahthanooforthormummy."<br>Gosalyn eyed Catlyn thoughtfully. "Slow down, Catlyn, say that again for mummy?"  
>"No-thain-you-for-thord-mummy."<br>Gosalyn's heart skipped with a gush of pride. 'Keen gear! A whole sentence!' "You are very welcome, sweetheart."  
>Gosalyn finished the glass of water and then took one for herself before picking Catlyn up and heading up the stairs.<p>

* * *

><p>Catlyn settled on the rug with a set of trucks and matchbox cars to play with. Gosalyn looked out the window and saw Justin and Raya practicing with their miniature bow set, aiming at the target on the fence. A group of gnomes was cowering far out of the way. Thinking about arrows and wind resistance made Gosalyn grab her quivers a moment before remembering she had no bow and so couldn't join in after all.<p>

Then Gosalyn spied her physics book. "There's a little bit of math in everything." She recited to herself and sat down on her bed with her pen and exercise book in her other hand. She got up to collect her calculator. Without reality, it was the next best thing. It was like ... a computer game … only not as fun.

Just as she sat down again the doorbell rang downstairs. Gosalyn sighed. "Figures." She looked over at Catlyn. "So who do you suppose it is, Catlyn?"  
>"Oi, mummy." Catlyn answered simply, putting down her truck. Smiled innocently she held up her arms to be picked up.<br>"D'oh." Gosalyn shook her head. "At this rate you'll be married before I am." She grabbed up her duckling by the middle and headed downstairs to answer the door.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn let Honker into the hallway.<p>

"Did you have a good time, Honker?"  
>Honker stared at her in confusion. "What are you talking about, Gosalyn?"<br>"Your mum said you were out just now." Gosalyn pointed out to him, noticing his formal suit and tie.  
>Honker went slightly pale. "Uh, mum said you wanted to talk to me, Gosalyn?"<br>"It wasn't really important." Gosalyn shrugged.

"Did you manage to get back with Millicent?"  
>"Millicent? Huh?" Honker repeated in confusion. He seemed particularly muddled this afternoon.<br>"Your friend Millicent from the chess club. The one you took to last year's formal. Have you two sorted it out and started dating again? I mean it's really none of my business, but-."  
>Honker cleared his throat. "Gosalyn, I really think I need to clear something up about Millicent and me." He paused.<p>

"Where were you today? You're not happy about me disappearing but you were gone long before I left."  
>"I had an appointment with S.H.U.S.H.'s spaced cadet department. Apparently I needed to 'formally decline' the opportunity to live in their barracks for five years." She snorted.<br>"Oh." Honker absently went to take his glasses off then discovering he was wearing contact lenses so ended up just crossing his arms. "You know S.H.U.S.H. likes their proper procedures followed."  
>Gosalyn sighed. "Yeah, well."<br>"It's funny you mentioned S.H.U.S.H. because I was at a school leaver's interview too. Basically, whatever my marks turn out to be for this year and year twelve I already have a place set for me."

Gosalyn cheered. "Way to go, Honker!" She congratulated. "That's got to take a load off your mind."  
>"Actually it doesn't." Honker answered quietly. "Now I have to figure out how to say 'no' to the other scholarships I've been offered."<br>"Um, 'I formally decline, I've accepted a placement somewhere else, please give the scholarship to someone else?" Gosalyn shrugged. "Hey, you know, Catlyn's smart too. She told me a whole sentence earlier today. Didn't you, Catlyn?"  
>"Ma?" Catlyn replied innocently. "Ongha?" She held out her hand for Honker.<br>Honker plucked Catlyn from Gosalyn's arms at the request and took her up into his arms with relish.

"Uh, what were we arguing about just now, Gosalyn?" Honker asked after several moments of cuddling Catlyn.  
>Gosalyn frowned, not quite remembering it that way. "I think we were just having an animated debate. At least I was." She swallowed. "You can be anywhere and do anything you want, Honk, you don't have to tell me."<br>"It was a really hard decision, Gosalyn, and it was just one of those things I had to do on my own. What I want my future to look like is pretty important. Who do I want to be? I've been thinking about it a lot lately."

He looked at Gosalyn with a dazed expression on his face. "I actually walked in there not believing I'd get in. I half-expected them to take one look at me and start laughing, and then tell me to go home. Like with the little league."  
>"Honker, Honker, Honker." Gosalyn clasped his shoulder. "You're a genius. What university wouldn't want to take you?"<br>"It's not that."  
>"They proved you wrong, today, didn't they?"<br>Honker nodded. Then he hesitated, "Gos ... you wanna go outside and bat some balls?"  
>"Sure. But have you got the time to spare away from your study?"<br>"I think we both could do with some exercise." He prodded.  
>"I'm sure we can shanghai Justin in for a game. I'll get the gear. Catlyn's stroller is in the hall."<p> 


	75. Ch 7 Mud Cake

_**A/n: HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!**_

* * *

><p><strong>As Autumn Falls<strong>

* * *

><p>The Saturday afternoon sun blazed, hitting the upstairs windows and bouncing off the heavyset indoor curtains. The white paint of the tidy Mallard house had a golden tinge to it. Littering the neat lawns were autumn leaves that went crunching under the children's feet. The air was growing crisp and the occasional breeze brought a fresh smattering of leaves down to earth.<p>

While taking her turn fielding, a particularly sharp easterly breeze hit Gosalyn between the eyes telling her it was time to get her baby duckling inside. She looked over to her little sister Raya. Catlyn was sitting in her lap, peering over the spare mitt.  
>"Time to get inside?" Gosalyn suggested and Raya nodded back.<p>

Gosalyn turned to the boys. "Time for tea, everyone."  
>At that moment, Justin threw the ball at Honker who just managed to dodge in time.<br>"You win, Justin." Honker called to Justin. "Did you see which way the ball went?"

The boys went hunting for the ball.

Meanwhile Gosalyn picked up Catlyn. "Erk, Catlyn, I think you're wearing half the backyard."

Catlyn sighed softly and snuggled into Gosalyn's T-shirt. Gosalyn caught the mitt before it fell to the ground.

"I'm afraid I'm not very warm for her." Raya said apologetically.  
>"That's okay, Ray." Gosalyn juggled the mitt and Catlyn so she could clasp a spare hand on Raya's shoulder. "Thanks for looking after Catlyn for me, sis."<p>

The boys came back empty-handed. "Gosalyn, the ball's gone missing again." Justin reported.  
>"It's okay; I'll sort it out, Justin." Gosalyn resolved to her miniature brother.<br>"Hey, Gos," Honker stopped up short beside Gosalyn before the door, leaning the bat against the wall as he spoke, "can I have a go at feeding Catlyn this time?"

Gosalyn smiled at his enthusiastic offer and affectionately handed Catlyn over. Catlyn was staring down wide-eyed at Raya and Justin going past them through the door.

"I'm sure she'd love your attention, Honker, thanks."

The kitchen door closed behind him and Gosalyn went to fetch the gear. "One under-twelve quiver set complete with under-twelve bow, one champion little league bat with Gizmoduck autograph, two catchers mitts and one collapsible easy-to-escape-from stroller. You know I don't have dad's patience!" She called out her last sentence as she bundled the objects into her arms and turned around to face the yard. "It's time to give it back, you guys. Or else I'll be back with a shovel. You-know-it-won't-be-pretty!" She added in a dark warning voice.

There was an audible grunt from somewhere behind a fence-screening plant and the ball came bounding back, rolling along the leaf flecked grass towards Gosalyn's webbed feet. She found a spare hand and picked it up. "Thank you very much." Gosalyn chimed, clawed for the doorknob and went inside to put everything away and clean herself up for tea.

* * *

><p>All washed up a short while later, Gosalyn found herself in the formal dining room behind the staircase, nibbling Squirzzles. She was watching Honker across the table feeding Catlyn in her highchair and hearing her siblings chatter about their afternoon adventures to Drake and Morgana. Their parents sat on either end of the polished wooden table like they usually did.<p>

Gosalyn marvelled how Drake didn't seem concerned that the only white parts on Catlyn were her hands and face where Honker had soaped her off. In this light it was obvious that Catlyn's hair was a matted grassy mess and the front of her pink top had collected every leaf fragment and dirt particle Catlyn had encountered since Spike's show of affection earlier that afternoon.

Honker was having a busy time feeding Catlyn. Regrettably the relinquished feeding job left Gosalyn with spare mental capacity and she found her next series of tasks going around and around in her head. She needed to get Catlyn ready for her appointment. Gosalyn felt queasy and tense over the prospect of discovering what Catlyn's sickness was. It was infuriating waiting for the unknown and the very idea that Catlyn was anything less than healthy was heart wrenching.

Gosalyn tried to focus on the conversation. Apparently, Gosalyn was off the hook with Raya because while she was at the Bushroot's greenhouse she only did 'grown up stuff' and hadn't directly interfered with Raya's social life.  
>"Thank you very much, Raya." Gosalyn responded blandly and reached for another squirzzle.<p>

"I don't think I should be in trouble either." Justin argued his reprieve too, "because Tarnia and me are already heaps friends from before."  
>It was obvious Raya was floundering on Justin's comeback by the anticlimax on her face. "Yeah, well, Justin ... everyone-in-the-whole-universe-is-your-friend!" She finished lamely.<br>Morgana joined in. "I think that's a good thing for Justin to be making friends with people."  
>"Besides which Justin is too young to have met everyone in the universe yet." Drake offered his point of view.<p>

"Yes, he has!" Raya rejected. "And he's friends with all of them!"  
>"Actually, I can answer that one, sir." Honker's slow and measured words changed the entire nature of the debate, "Raya, this is how big the actual universe is." He began. Gosalyn looked up from the food platter to Honker and noticed a slight smudge of Squirzzle on his face. "Take everything that you know and add it all up. Divide that by six and then multiply it by fifteen times X."<p>

There was a momentary stunned silence at the table.

"Honker?" Justin asked, "could you teach me mathematics when you come over to baby-sit next time?"  
>"Uh, sure, Justin." Honker accepted the request.<br>"What's 'X' mean, Honker?" Raya asked.  
>"X is an algebraic unknown, Raya," he answered. "Nobody really knows how big the universe is. That's how big it is. There's a few billion people in this solar system, a few billion solar systems in outer space alone. If that's not enough then there's Inner space, E-space, one-dimensional space, subspace, personal space, and pocket universes. There's too much to fit into any one person's head space."<br>"Wow." Raya uttered. "That's pretty big."

"And that's just 'X'." Honker continued, "We could loosely say the universe itself is the definition of every phenomenon ever conceivable. Which is to say all the things you've learned by the time you're fifteen multiplied an indefinite number of times. What Raya knows now, divide by six to get to one year of accumulated knowledge, multiply that answer by fifteen years as the age when you'll think you're grown up and know everything. Then you multiply that answer by X."  
>"Essex!" Catlyn pronounced in a voice as calm and confident as Honker's, "muddy pie effordee uno."<p>

"That is a simpler equation to express, Catlyn, and equally as accurate." Honker commended. "X multiplied by everything you know."  
>"Doesn't 'X' scare you, Honker?" Gosalyn asked him.<br>"Sometimes, when it turns on me." Honker answered. "But not for long because then I ask you for help."

"Talking about help." Gosalyn grabbed a serviette and handed it to her best friend over the narrow table. "Your feather's are going to get all sticky, Honker." She changed the subject. "I thought you were feeding Catlyn; not the other way around."  
>Honker wiped his cheek, his face suddenly flushed in surprise. "I don't recall sticky business ever bothering you from having fun before, Gosalyn."<br>"Oops, sorry, Honker." Gosalyn apologised downheartedly. "The two of you did look like you were having fun."  
>"That's okay, Gosalyn, I understand." Honker answered kindly, "you're in mum mode. I'll try and be ready for it next time."<br>Gosalyn felt a flush of embarrassment. "Yikes."

Morgana's voice broke over Gosalyn's inner turmoil. "I'm sure you'll have your sense of humour back once seeing the doctor is out of the way tonight, Gosalyn sweetheart."  
>"Speaking of which I'll meet you at the tower when you're ready with Catlyn, Q." Drake advised. "And we'll get to the bottom of this."<p>

"Yeah, I sure hope so." Taking his words as her cue, Gosalyn resolved to get the chore underway and headed around the table to collect Catlyn. She caught Honker's gaze. "Thanks for the nice afternoon, Honk." She said over Catlyn's head.  
>"Um, yeah." He seemed about to say something but instead stood up. He lifted Catlyn up out of the highchair and handed her over. "I'm glad we spent some time together like we used to. I was worried I'd get through the holidays without having any fun."<p>

"Oh, Honker," Gosalyn felt her heart squeeze, "I've missed you too." Holding onto the gritty, mud and grass covered Catlyn, Gosalyn smiled back at him. "But since I'm not working at S.H.U.S.H. anymore we can do it 'heaps' more often!" She gushed.  
>"That'd be keen." Her best friend answered in his ever-mild way. "Good luck at the doctor's, Gos."<br>"Yeah ..." Gosalyn answered faintly, her smile disappearing, "thanks."  
>"I wish I ... well, you'll have Darkwing Duck with you." Honker reminded her.<br>Gosalyn glanced back at her heroic dad at the table and nodded bravely at Honker. There was a great deal of comfort in that reminder that she wouldn't be facing this alone.

Gosalyn addressed Catlyn in her arms. "Come on, mudpie, bath time. Let's get you nice and soft and fluffy again."

* * *

><p>The moment Gosalyn had finished drying Catlyn after her bath it was all out war between them.<p>

"Dahwanagowmummy!" Catlyn fussed. Gosalyn's red-haired duckling squirmed, wriggled, and kicked making things as difficult as possible for Gosalyn to get her nappy on. All Gosalyn's attempts to coax her failed. Her nappy went on crooked even on Gosalyn's second try.

Catlyn struggled against Gosalyn's grip as she hauled her into the bedroom. Down on the bed Catlyn balled herself up and stubbornly refused to help get her head through the top of the green shirt.  
>"Alright, alright-already!" Gosalyn quacked finally. "Let's talk this out." Gosalyn yanked the shirt off Catlyn and collapsed on the bed with a frustrated sigh. She leaned forwards and put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. This was just like a scene out of The Babysitter Chronicles. At least now, Gosalyn understood why the PG movie was on Drake's banned movies list. It was a very small comfort.<p>

It made Gosalyn appreciate Catlyn's normally good behaviour. It also made Gosalyn angry at herself for being just a teenager. Having a kid was intense. Gosalyn not only had to manage her own bad moods but also Catlyn's. Life wasn't just about keeping herself organised anymore, but keeping Catlyn's life moving forward as well. There was a lot of hard work involved in getting it right. As Gosalyn sat there facing the crib, the desk and the window, she realised this was probably what the job of the S.H.U.S.H. director was about. Leadership was all about coordinating, managing, problem solving and ... directing.

Catlyn clambered closer and peered up at her mother with a serious expression. "Dah waan docca." Catlyn piped in a calm voice left over from her time with Honker.  
>"Why?" Gosalyn asked, watching her duckling warily. With a tone like that, Catlyn probably thought she was acting as completely rational as Honker's impossible algebra.<br>Catlyn patted Gosalyn's leg. "No cwiee, mummy."

'Egad, how can I stay mad with an answer like that?' Gosalyn stared at her fluffy duckling's sincere face. 'Where the heck did she get this from?' Gosalyn thought back, 'the nut loaf incident! I couldn't help but meddle with dad.' With a personal horror, Gosalyn realised that Catlyn, with her tiny slither of understanding about the world, was only trying to help her mother. As the number one role model, Gosalyn accepted she could blame nobody but herself for this entire outburst.

She pulled Catlyn up into a hug. "Oh, sweetie, I know you're only trying to help. But the doctor's not the problem. It's that he might say that you're sick."  
>"Sig?"<br>"But if you are sick, Catlyn sweetie, he might help to make you well. If we don't go to see him, you'll be sick anyway but you might not get well. So, you see; the doctor is the best solution."  
>"Sig?" Catlyn repeated questioningly.<br>"Yeah, Catlyn, that's the part mummy doesn't like, but we have to deal with it or else it could get worse." She paused. "We have to be tough cookies and get through it." She smiled courageously and looked down at Catlyn. "With your help we can beat it together. You with me, champ?"

Catlyn took a deep breath and nodded seriously. "Ochay, mummy."  
>"Alright then, let's get going!" Gosalyn plucked up Catlyn's clean green shirt from the bedspread and fit it with simple ease over her duckling's head. From the cupboard, Gosalyn dug out a blue flannel over-shirt one size too big from the cupboard and hooked Catlyn's arms into it.<br>Catlyn loved the new fabric experience instantly. "Sofanwahm!" She petted the length of it.  
>"Yeah." Gosalyn nuzzled Catlyn's cheek, "just like you when you're a good girl."<br>"Ahmagoogurw." Catlyn countered, "Idahcwiee."  
>Gosalyn clamped her beak shut on her instinct to debate and scooped her daughter up. "... There are a few more things for you to learn, Catlyn." Gosalyn eventually found an even answer, "the biggest thing is: you've got to talk to mummy. I can't fix what I don't know is wrong."<p>

They headed downstairs and said a quick 'see you later' to everyone who'd settled into a game of scrabble in the dining room. Drake had already left.

Holding Catlyn tight in her lap Gosalyn sat down on one of the armchairs in the lounge room. With a press of the mouse head button and a thrilled squawk from Catlyn, they disappeared down the access shaft to Darkwing Tower.


	76. Ch 7 Boo

**Left Wing: Part 76**

* * *

><p><strong>Boo<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(Saturday Evening)<em>

The last rays of the autumn sun were fading when Gosalyn got to the tower with Catlyn and crossed the stone floor to the changing area. Darkwing Duck was ready and waiting for them dressed complete with cape and fedora hat. Gosalyn handed Catlyn over to him so she could change.

Gosalyn had nearly forgotten how heavy her clothes were as protective layer after protective layer she suited up. She was just hooking the clasps of her cape when Catlyn cried out.

"Mummy?" Catlyn asked in an alarmed squawk.

"I'm right here." Quiverwing emerged from the back of the changing screen to face Darkwing and Catlyn in her purple uniform. "Here I am, sweetheart, it's me." Quiverwing looked down in concern at her worried duckling in Darkwing's arms.  
>"Mummygone!" Catlyn shook her head with a frown and clutched Darkwing's arm tensely. "Wess mummy, anda?"<br>"That's still your mummy, Catlyn." Darkwing answered Catlyn in a reassuring voice. He looked up at Quiverwing with a puzzled frown.

"Catlyn isn't normally so flighty." Quiverwing told him, not knowing what was going on.  
>"Perhaps she's a bit worn out. Would you say she's had a dramatic day?"<br>"I guess so ..." Quiverwing frowned back at him.

"Catlyn, sweetie-pie." Darkwing implored his granddaughter. "Your mummy's just changed clothes like I have. It's a trick. Like when Darkwing hid in that big pink box. Your mummy's hiding, that's all."  
>"Big box?" Catlyn loosened up her grip a little and looked at Quiverwing again. Quiverwing felt her stomach plummet as she saw unshed tears glistening in Catlyn's eyes.<p>

Catlyn sniffed, wiping a tear away. "Um ... Issat you heidi, mummy?"  
>"Yes, sweetie. I'm me. I'm just in my work clothes."<br>"Heidi far wark?"  
>"Um, yes." Quiverwing shrugged. "I'm hiding. Are you okay with that, sweetie?"<p>

"Weird." Her duckling pronounced perfectly.

"Look, I really am your mummy, see?" Quiverwing undid her mask and handed it to Catlyn. Catlyn looked down at the purple fabric in her tiny hand for a moment then looked searchingly up at Gosalyn's face. She looked back up at Darkwing Duck and then back to Gosalyn. "Lighe deedah and awpa, mummy?" She finally asked.  
>"Yes, sweetie-pie; mummy's job is just like granddad's."<br>Catlyn looked down at the mask in her tiny fingers. "Sowonistimamummydare." She sighed in relief and held the fabric out for Gosalyn. "Heyah, mummy; heidi."  
>"Oh, thank you very much, sweetie." Gosalyn smiled in relief, taking her mask back.<br>"Well, now that that's sorted, let's go." Darkwing spun around and headed for the ratcatcher. Quiverwing followed them, doing her mask back up.

"Darkwing, I just remembered that we need to refuel." Quiverwing hesitated as she stepped towards the passenger car of the ratcatcher.  
>"No problem, Quiverwing, Launchpad's taken care of all that. Come on."<br>Quiverwing jumped into the sidecar and Darkwing handed her Catlyn. "I sure do miss Launchpad." She commented as she fitted the child helmet to Catlyn's head. "Maybe we should have a get together or something."  
>"Funny, Launchpad had the same idea the other day. I think next month is looking pretty good for it."<p>

Darkwing fired up the engine.  
>"Yihee!" Catlyn squawked, clutching her hands to her helmet as the machine roared to life.<br>"It's alright, sweetie, you'll get used to it." Quiverwing cooed, putting her own helmet. Catlyn really was a bit flighty today. "It's just the ratcatcher's engine."  
>"You two alright there?"<br>Quiverwing watched Catlyn twisting her head, observing her new surroundings and clearly no longer bothered by the purring throbbing engine. "Surprise over." Quiverwing turned her head up, smiling at her dad, "all set, Darkwing."

* * *

><p>Darkwing drove the ratcatcher through the random Saturday evening traffic of the city. They turned into the underground parking lot of the Hamil Corp building and parked beside a cement column near the lifts. There weren't many lights down here. As far as the eye could see, it was a squared off cavern composed entirely of mottled grey concrete and barely a car in sight. The ratcatcher's engine purred to a stop.<p>

"Now, baby." Quiverwing said in a hushed voice, feeling slightly uneasy in the issuing silence as she removed Catlyn's helmet and then her own, "we have to be very quiet in this place." She pressed her finger to her beak, "quiet. No talking."  
>Catlyn copied her and put her finger to her beak.<p>

Quiverwing nodded back to her duckling. Then she climbed out of the now silent machine, holding Catlyn close to her.  
>"Are you alright, Q? Your breathing's gotten quicker." Darkwing watched her from the other side in concern.<br>"I'm always a bit tense in this place, Darkwing." Quiverwing replied. "But this is important." She added for Catlyn's sake, putting her on her hip and protectively holding her cape around Catlyn to keep her out of sight. "And we're going to get through it together."

The three of them crossed over to the elevator of the giant building. Quiverwing had been in many pleasantly empty places but this was not one of them. This particular car park had the intense sort of quiet going where the only thing Quiverwing knew was that she and Catlyn were not alone. The fluorescent light above their heads wasn't a comfort against the reaching shadows; only Darkwing Duck's steady and confident presence gave Quiverwing any reassurance that this wasn't a battlefield with the words 'The Quiverwing Quack' written all over it.  
>"You don't have your own health cover anymore." Darkwing was saying as they waited for the lift. "I'd like to see that remedied quickly." The doors opened.<p>

"It's okay, Darkwing." Quiverwing replied, stepping into the lift after him. "I don't mind seeing your doctors. I know they're good. I'm grateful for your help." Quiverwing told him, feeling affection for her daughter sitting, quietly behaving, on her hip.

Once inside Quiverwing gazed at the dull sheen of the lift doors, thinking of the stark comparison this inner city skyrise made to the S.H.U.S.H. main administration building. The little historic sandstone block seemed very cozy and quaint to compare.

* * *

><p>The lift ride stopped and they headed to the floor's reception desk. Every floor of this unassumingly large building had a security checkpoint positioned between the lifts and the rooms of the level.<p>

"Hi, Darkwing Duck. Doctor Anatra's ready for you. Go right through." The receptionist on the medical floor didn't even glance at The Quiverwing Quack.  
>"Thanks." Darkwing answered and caught Quiverwing's eye, motioning for her to follow. They moved on down the corridor.<p>

"It's Saturday night; don't these guys have a life?" Quiverwing muttered.  
>"No more than we Mallards do." Darkwing shook his head at Quiverwing.<p>

* * *

><p>They stepped out of the corridor and into the large medical ward. The place was set out with empty bed after side bench after empty bed. If there were ever some unknown large scale attack like by some alien invaders or possibly the next apocalypse, Quiverwing mused, these guys had it covered.<p>

While the receptionist hadn't noticed her at all, the doctor of course was expecting to see Quiverwing.  
>"The Quiverwing Quack." The dark haired medical professional smiled cordially acknowledging her. "Hello, I'm Doctor Simon Anatra. This way, we've got a consultancy room all set up for you."<br>"Hi." Quiverwing grinned after him. "What a coincidence. I was just talking to a Simon the other day."

They stepped into a side room that looked like a regular doctor's clinic room. There was still plenty of room for the three of them in the smaller space, Quiverwing noted. The doctor paused in confusion, looking between her and Darkwing who was just closing the door. "I thought I was going to see a duckling?"  
>"She's right here." Quiverwing dropped the folds of her cape.<br>"Oh, there you are, I didn't see you tucked in there. Hello, Catlyn." Anatra smiled at Catlyn on Quiverwing's hip. He straightened and looked back to Quiverwing. "She looks about four days old from her size, would that be correct?"  
>"Yes." Quiverwing answered. "Give or take a few hours. Five tomorrow morning."<p>

"She's been having a bit of trouble keeping a constant temperature." Quiverwing started the conversation, "I think that's the cause for her waking up in the night whenever she's in the crib."  
>"Well, we'll see. Let's weigh her first; if you care to come over here." He gestured to the tabletop scale on the nearby bench and walked over to it.<br>"Oh, dear." Quiverwing crossed over and put her gloved hand on the icy metal plate. She rubbed for several moments to warm it up before putting Catlyn on top. "There you are, darling."

The doctor took Catlyn's reading down. "Hmm, Catlyn actually is slightly underweight." He confirmed and then from the drawer beneath the bench below Catlyn he pulled out a tongue depressor. "Could you open up for me, please, Catlyn? Good girl." He looked into her beak.  
>"How can she be underweight? She's eating fine. I mean," Quiverwing glanced back at Darkwing with his arms folded near the shut door. "I'd have thought. Most of it goes down her crop."<br>Doctor Anatra put the little stick in the bin. "There is certainly nothing wrong with her beak to stop her from getting her food down." He puzzled over the matter, crossing his arms.

The doctor suddenly grinned enthusiastically, "I've got an idea. I'd like to check something if you don't mind."  
>"Weren't you just doing that?" Quiverwing watched Catlyn starting to shiver.<br>"No, uh, that's fine. You can get Catlyn out of the cold now."  
>Quiverwing quickly scooped Catlyn up. Catlyn breathed a small sigh of relief.<p>

"Could you just sit down for a moment, Quiverwing?"  
>"Okay?" She sat down on the bed behind them, holding Catlyn in her arms.<br>"Can I just borrow your hand for a moment?"  
>Quiverwing hesitated, thinking hard, glancing over at her father. There was no signal from him so she put Catlyn in her lap and pulled off her glove.<br>Anatra carefully teased his fingers through the feathers along her arm. "Thank you." He let go of her and twisted away to face Darkwing. "Can I have a look at yours to compare, Darkwing?"  
>Her father came up and held out his bare hand.<p>

The doctor examined his feathers the same way. "It looks like I've found the problem." He turned to Quiverwing. "You have a low feather count, Quiverwing. Translated to Catlyn, she feels the cold more because she has less down. It also explains why you state that she's feeding fine but still slightly underweight. It would've been the same for you when you were little."  
>"I don't feel the cold." Quiverwing insisted. "I have a night job."<br>"But think what you're doing then. You keep yourself moving so you're generating kinetic energy. Your mind is going fast all the time, and that keeps you warm as well. He looked down at Catlyn. "Once Catlyn gets moving properly, then she'll make her own warmth just like you do."  
>Gosalyn frowned. "I do remember having cold feet as a kid."<p>

"I knew it!" Darkwing quacked triumphantly.

There was a distinct Darkwing versus Quiverwing tone in his voice. Quiverwing looked up warily at her father. "Darkwing?"  
>"I could never keep you still for five minutes!" He exclaimed, proving she was right. "You were always into everything, going everywhere, doing everything, always up to something! I knew it just had to be a genetic reason!"<br>"You're built quite lean." Anatra added to her. "That and the thin feathers predispose you to an active lifestyle."  
>"I'm lean because I move around so much." Quiverwing argued.<br>"And you unconsciously keep yourself warm by doing it. That's just the way yours and Catlyn's bodies work."

"Well, thin feathers never stopped me!" Quiverwing hugged Catlyn. "So there you are then, Catlyn." She sighed in incredible relief. "There really is nothing the matter with you."  
>"Eesgoo mummy." Catlyn answered back.<p>

"What do you recommend to manage the coming winter, doctor?" Darkwing continued the subject.

Doctor Anatra had moved behind his desk and was working away at his computer. "Warm clothes and plenty of fresh food." The printer began working. Once the pages came out Anatra signed them. "Just to advise you we'll need to issue an amended certificate later." He stated politely, handing Quiverwing one of the two pages.  
>Quiverwing glanced down the page. The blank paternal name boxes jumped out and everything else on the page became an unimportant blur. "Is Catlyn perfectly Normal then?" She asked faintly.<br>The Doctor reassured her with a smile. "From everything I can see she is most certainly a perfectly healthy five day old Catlyn Mallard."

"..." Quiverwing looked down at Catlyn. Healthy and Normal were different things but she didn't want to worry Catlyn any more for one day by asking questions about the blank space mystery.  
>"The important thing is my granddaughter is perfectly healthy." Darkwing cut over Quiverwing's thoughts. "And that's what we came here for. Right, Quiverwing?"<br>"Right." She answered in a slightly unconvinced tone, the image of the blank space on the green page near burnt into the back of her eyeballs.

"I know it's maddening, Q." Darkwing said in a darker tone. "But it must be later." He turned to Anatra. "Thank you, doctor." He smiled at Catlyn, "come on, you two back to the ratcatcher."  
>"Yay!" Catlyn quacked. Her voice carried loud enough to wake the dead.<br>"Shh, oh, Catlyn!" Quiverwing cringed.  
>"Oosamummy." Catlyn added with a regretful squawk and clasped her little beak.<br>Quiverwing hugged Catlyn closely, nuzzling her cheek. "I love you, Catlyn." She said softly. "Whatever happens we'll get through it together."


	77. Ch 7 Brief

**Left Wing: Part 77**

* * *

><p><strong>Debriefing<strong>

* * *

><p>The return to the ratcatcher in the underground carpark proved uneventful. Fortunately, nothing and no one wanted to mess with the combined might of Darkwing Duck and The Quiverwing Quack tonight. Soon they and Catlyn were back safely at the tower again and Quiverwing was stashing the helmets back into the sidecar's compartment.<p>

"You go on ahead, Darkwing, I want to show Catlyn something first."  
>"No worries. It's good to have that mystery solved and out of he way." He commented before leaving his daughter to her own devices.<br>Quiverwing carried Catlyn over to the Mallard family's wall of books. "I want to show you how important and special being a Mallard is, Catlyn, and why your mummy wears these funny purple clothes." She pulled out the Mallard's family tree book and Quiverwing sat down on Darkwing's armchair.

She presented the pictures to Catlyn. "Catlyn, this is the Mallard family tree. All your granddad's granddads are in this book." Quiverwing announced proudly. "Your mummy and granddad work hard to be brave heroes just like them." Going briefly through the pages, she was getting more and more into the historical notations. "And see, this one's Sir Quackmire Mallard!"  
>Catlyn pointed at the picture, catching Quiverwing's enthusiasm. "Waas?"<br>"See, he's on a horse. Kind of like the ratcatcher. His suit of armour is pretty much like your mummy's work clothes, too. And he's got a shield, too, and well, that's just like mummy's cape." Quiverwing closed the book and slid it back onto the table. She held up a loose edge of her cape to Catlyn, "Feel it, Catlyn? It's a tough springy metal on the inside."  
>Catlyn poked at it. "Sirbingy."<br>"It protects me just like Sir Quackmire Mallard's shield in the book. I'm just wearing a suit of armour, baby; it's nothing really all that weird. Do you remember when someone nearly pushed your pram over and you got hit on the beak?"  
>"Oh!" Catlyn clasped her beak. "Daysheroo-os?"<p>

Quiverwing paused for a moment, hearing the attempted word and then translating it. "Dangerous. Grandpa taught you that word, did he?"  
>"Ya, deedarnawpah."<br>Quivering hugged her soft baby duckling, nuzzling her cheek. "The Quiverwing Quack's job is dangerous, but no matter what I wear, Catlyn, sweetie; whether I'm dressed in a suit of armour or not I'm always going to be your mummy. Okay?"  
>"Ochay, mummy."<br>"I'm afraid it's very cold in here, Catlyn, but mummy just needs to get changed. I won't be long, okay?"  
>Catlyn scrunched up her face. "Huweemummy, eescowd."<br>"Could you look after mummy's hat for me?" Quiverwing handed her daughter her pointed cap and then went behind the changing screen. She quickly hung her gear up and stepped out with her everyday clothes on.

Gosalyn presented herself to her duckling in Darkwing's chair. "How do I look now?"  
>Catlyn beamed at her and, abandoning the cap on the chair, she raised her arms for Gosalyn to pick her up. "Yumah mummy, mummy!" She said happily. "Nomoh heidi."<br>Gosalyn picked her up. "Pretty keen gear, huh?"  
>Catlyn nodded in her arms. "Keengeeyah." She agreed with a yawn and snuggled into Gosalyn's T-shirt. In another moment, Catlyn had fallen fast asleep.<br>"Oh dear." Gosalyn muttered quietly to herself. "A bit too much excitement for one day, I think."  
>She made a portal and stepped back into their bedroom.<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn used her dad's temporary idea and tucked Catlyn into her bed with the hot water bottle nearby. She came downstairs to the living room and found herself getting a hug from Raya.<br>"I told you it'd be alright." Raya said to her.  
>"Yeah, Ray." Gosalyn answered before Raya took off up the stairs.<p>

Their dad was sitting on the far corner of the sofa, scowling at the TV.  
>"Relaxing, dad?" Gosalyn fished for a reaction.<br>"No, and I don't know where you get that idea from." He frowned back at her. "This is all bothering me very much because I can't quite put it together."  
>"I thought it was just me."<p>

Gosalyn sat down beside him and looked over to the muted TV. 'The Last Duck on Earth'. She closed her eyes as she remembered how the doctor had answered Quiverwing's question on Catlyn being 'Normal'. "Textbook results." She groaned in realisation.  
>"What?"<br>"The doctor's answers were all out of his bedside manner book."  
>"Well, so long as she doesn't have any health problems then there's no need to worry."<br>"If I go back there now will Anatra still be there, do you think?"  
>"No, it was a one off appointment. He's home now."<br>Gosalyn crossed her arms and faced the TV. "He was definitely blocking me."  
>"Gos; he's got kids of his own; I'm sure he appreciates what you're going through. But he also knows what not to say in front of them. I'm sure that's all there is."<br>"Yeah I guess so. I still want to talk to him about her father without Catlyn overhearing it all."  
>"I'll arrange a time next week."<p>

'Yet another week', Gosalyn closed her eyes and sighed. "Dad, you usually have everything solved on the inside of two weeks tops. What have you found out about the fireworks factory incident?"  
>"That the facts are hard to come by."<br>"You've narrowed down the species at least haven't you?"

Drake shifted uncomfortably. "When you changed clothes, for a brief moment I thought I'd had the answer to that because of the dampening field designed into your outfit. It helps to make you a difficult target to track by a whole range of non-avian sensors and if Catlyn has any of those sensors she'd certainly be using it to know her mother was alright." He groaned. "But on the other hand Catlyn's had a long busy day and it's perfectly reasonable to assume that she simply wasn't up for a game of peek-a-boo. So non-avian or avian, I still don't know!" Drake rubbed his face. "All his genes are recessed or at least they are at the moment. As far as evidence goes, Catlyn's practically the spitting image of you, Gos. Who knows how old she'll get before we get to see anything of her father in her? It's not as if she's got any more clues than us."

"But you have to have been looking for him, right?"  
>"Yes, of course I've tried to find this guy for you, Gos." Drake paused darkly, "but my number one suspect is very well hidden."<br>"From you, dad?"  
>"As a safe bet I'd say no." He sighed. "I don't know who he is. I don't know where he is. All I know for a fact is that I've had a lot of nasty competition looking for him in the last couple of weeks." Drake waved at the TV screen. "Every time I've picked up on John Doe's trail those things are either already there or have shown up soon after me."<br>Gosalyn looked to the movie as the mutants swamped in on the main character.  
>"Why do they want John Doe? I mean, what is he to them? What is he at all? Is he even the right suspect in the first place? Could it have been someone else? Is this just a side issue? How can I know that until I corner this guy? How can I corner this guy without those things around? Ugh." He rubbed his face and sat back, putting his arms along the back of the chair, his eyes on the screen.<p>

"I want to stay mad at him for you, Gos, but if this is the guy I really can't blame him for hiding from those things out there. Whoever he is he's got 'victim' written all over him."  
>"Victim?" Gosalyn folded her arms, having a positive connection. "His name might be David."<br>"What?"  
>"Names are important, aren't they? And you just said he might not be avian." Gosalyn stated easily, "My suspect showed up at the Blue Parrot Club a couple of times while I was there. I accidentally scared him off on Wednesday night. Sheila called him David. He was a tall red fox with black tipped ears. I got the impression he didn't get out much. He was complaining about Steelbeak and some other person. Steelbeak called him a victim and you know Steelbeak. A spade's a spade."<br>"Oh, sure, it's a spade alright. Just not necessarily the right spade." Drake grizzled in a quietly infuriated voice. "However in this case his impression of this David character certainly does fit the bill for the missing factory suspect." Drake mused. "But David still might not be the actual one we're after. Side tracked or not you can see my dilemma. They spell trouble, Q. Until I know enough about these creatures and why they're following him around, I can't question David."

"Take me, next time." Gosalyn resolved, "and I can have an expert look at these creatures."  
>"Deal." He resolved, "I'll come fetch you the next trace I pick up."<br>"You make it sound like some rare blip or something."  
>"Yep. That's John Doe alright. He makes my vanishing act look like a slow saunter." He leaned his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "Basically there are a lot of weird places reasonably Normal people can vanish off to. Inter-dimensional portals for one thing and time shifts for another. Honker brought up just another one this afternoon: pocket universes. No, the only way to solve this is to figure these creatures out first. I'm sorry, Gos, I can't tell you how long this'll take to get right to the bottom of it."<br>Gosalyn sighed in defeat.

"In the end it doesn't matter why he's more disappeared than reappeared," Gosalyn turned back to the black and white movie, "if Catlyn's going to have any father he's going to need the guts enough to stand up to me." She sighed. "Tall order."

"Yeah, so what?" Drake straightened and turned to her, "Gos, if he can't stand up to you, then the two of you aren't equal so what's the next thing on your list?"  
>"Oh, dad." Gosalyn couldn't help but laugh.<br>"Seriously, Gosalyn, I want to go through it with you. I think the last boy talk I had with you has passed its use by date."  
>"I don't know, I think my list has gotten too long." Gosalyn shook her head, watching the burial scene on the TV. "He's definitely got to be there, though. Literally. This job I've got, this person I am, I need to be able to count on him."<p>

"And he's got to be cute, right?"  
>Gosalyn saw red. "Da-ad!" She grabbed the pillow beside her and flung it at him.<br>"What?" He dodged and ended up on the floor behind the arm of the sofa. "What was that for?"  
>"You said you were being 'serious' and I believed you!" She snapped.<br>"You and Ulrich were together for a while. I'm sure you said he was cute. I'm sure those were your exact words."  
>"Cute is just a kid thing." Gosalyn twisted back and faced the TV again, recalling those couple of months in her life. Every conversation eventually returned to football. "Ugh, he was so normal he was boring."<p>

Drake got up and silently switched the TV off.  
>"You give up, dad?" Gosalyn eyed him in front of the TV.<br>"What is it about football players and you anyway?"  
>"They're tough enough to stand up to me."<br>"Is that all?" Drake folded his arms in annoyance.  
>Gosalyn jumped off the chair and stood in front of him. "Yeah, dad!" She challenged, "it's the first thing on my list, remember?"<br>"Gosalyn, Gosalyn, Gosalyn." Drake shook his head with a suddenly smug smile. "Football does not, a 'tough guy', make."  
>"Yeah, but it's a good place to start looking!" Gosalyn rejected.<br>"Football just builds physical strength, Gosalyn. If there's a door to smash in you can do it yourself. You'd spend all your relationship in a competition with someone like that."

Gosalyn was fuming, "so where do you think I should be looking for the right guy? The universe is a pretty big place, dad."  
>"Well, if you have to ask ..." He shrugged, "if I were you I'd be looking for someone into emergency service work. Maybe a paramedic. And I wouldn't stop looking until you found one that appreciated both Gosalyn Mallard and The Quiverwing Quack."<br>Gosalyn sighed, thinking about Catlyn. "It's even more complicated now. They have to accept Catlyn too."  
>"The right guy will love you." Drake hugged her. "No strings attached." He turned away. "Meanwhile I'll see about getting another lead. I'll try the Blue Parrot Club again."<br>"Sheila might know something more."

Her father twisted back and crossed his arms with an unimpressed look.  
>Gosalyn frowned. "You're giving me that face."<br>"Sheila knows you as Scarlet so you really can't just show up as Quiverwing. Plus it's a slow job. I have been combing this city night after night for three weeks. I've had only three near misses; at the Jones and Crackle fireworks factory, at the Blue Parrot Club and at Candy Hearts Packaging Centre down in the warehouse district."  
>"What was he doing there?" Gosalyn grunted in surprise.<br>"That's exactly what I want know!" Drake exclaimed. "He popped in, touched nothing and then popped out again. Maybe you can think of a reason for someone doing that because between Launchpad and me he's got us beat. Although LP's ... if this was September last year I'm sure he'd have handed me the answer by now." Drake sighed, "well, at least we've got names for all of our suspects now."  
>Gosalyn folded her arms, making up her mind. "Alright, dad, you keep looking for whatever it is that's hunting David and I'll see about ruling out the other suspects."<br>A smile broke through on Drake's features. "Now there's a plan I can live with."


	78. Ch 7 Shortlist

**Left Wing: Part 78**

* * *

><p><strong>Shortlist<strong>

* * *

><p>The alarm went off and Gosalyn's today list chased the idea of further sleep away. 'My first practice session with Crowder and Duckett is today ... I'm going to narrow the list of dad potentials down.' She scooped Catlyn up from under her and climbed out of bed.<p>

"Good morning, Catlyn!" She beamed. "It's Sunday today."  
>Catlyn yawned sleepily. "Sunday? Waassunday?"<br>"It's a brand new day today!" Gosalyn repeated. "And that means it's time for breakfast."  
>"Naweadybeckfas." Catlyn mumbled groggily. "Seebeesgoonoow."<br>"Oh, come on, Catlyn, four o'clock was four hours ago. You want to be big and tough for winter ... and for walking."

Gosalyn put Catlyn back on the pillow. She then grabbed out her saxophone from under her bed and put it on top of the rumpled bedcovers. "We're meeting the guys later for music practice."  
>Catlyn lifted her head up to look at what Gosalyn was doing. "Moosig?"<br>"Aha, that caught your attention." Gosalyn laughed. "I haven't jammed for ages. This is gonna be super keen fun." She checked Catlyn's glassy expression. "The guys? You remember the ones we met at the cafe on Friday? One a bit grumpy, the other one a little spaced out? They wore black shirts with pictures on them? They play music like Honker does."

Catlyn yawned in non-answer and gave her a sleepy blink. The miniature duckling then grabbed the edge of the covers with both hands and pulled with all her might to hoist the blanket up. It didn't go far enough to reach over her head so Catlyn climbed off the pillow and dug under the covers.

"Oh, so mummy's boring you already." Gosalyn shook her head mildly stung, and then crossed to the cupboard to sort out today's clothes for her and Catlyn. She scoured through the cupboard and found one final red shirt that was three sizes too big for Catlyn. "Oops, better do some laundry first, though. I don't know how I've gotten away with it for this long." Gosalyn flung today's clothes for Catlyn on the bed and went to the ensuite to get ready to face the new day.

* * *

><p>Finally on her way out Gosalyn grabbed the clothes hamper from the corner near the ensuite and reviewed the lump that was her daughter under the floral green covers. "Alright, Catlyn, mummy's got some washing to do, so you can stay in bed till I get back."<p>

"Oh, thangoomummy." Catlyn mumbled groggily, still snuggled in bed. "Eeswahmeeheeyah." She finished with a yawn.

"Yeah." Gosalyn frowned momentarily at the door, "don't get too comfortable though, kiddo, I won't be gone long."

* * *

><p>In the basement under the kitchen Gosalyn added an extra dose of vinegar to the wash thinking on how busy Catlyn's yesterday had been as the reason why she was so sleepy this morning. She'd made friends with Archie, Spike and the ratcatcher and been right across the city twice. Adding to that was the emotional rollercoaster that had started in the S.H.U.S.H. waiting room with Catlyn's first nasty fright.<p>

With that in mind, Gosalyn thought she'd try for an easy Sunday with her daughter.

Gosalyn watched the washer start its way through the heavy soils cycle, her mind on her list of suspects. First there was Steelbeak. He'd just love the opportunity to have one over on The Quiverwing Quack. Then there were the eggmen. There were an excessive number of them but then they had no motive. Then there was Pamela Assan's theory in the clothes store about Honker. It wasn't Gosalyn's imagining: the kids in school had noticed Honker behaving strangely. While it was hard to imagine her best friend putting Gosalyn through all of this, Honker's unusual behaviour was so far void of explanation.

There were essentially two categories of suspects. The whole set of eggmen were definitely easy enough to rule out right here at home and Gosalyn planned to do it straight after breakfast.

Having that resolved, Gosalyn left the washing machine and went to fetch the highchair back from the dining room. Then she headed upstairs to unwrap her snoozing duckling.

* * *

><p>"Come on, Catlyn; let's get some food into you." She dug Catlyn out of the bed and brought her down to the kitchen for breakfast in her blue pyjama top. "I want you big and strong for winter."<p>

Catlyn had a few spoonfuls of mushed banana before she sat back and sighed. "Thangoomummy."

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Gosalyn smiled and finished off the banana. "That's very good for insisting you weren't hungry fifteen minutes ago." Gosalyn paused. "We have to go to music practice today but apart from that we can have a nice safe day at home. No running around for you like yesterday. No big crowded rooms, no strange scary places. Okay?"

"Ochay, mummy." Catlyn answered in her little voice. "Nahwunny."

* * *

><p>With Catlyn on her hip Gosalyn went out, fetched the travel rug from the car, came in, went upstairs and then dug around in the depths of the toy box at the bottom of the linen cupboard for a puzzle toy. She found the Russian nesting doll and decided it would do the job perfectly.<p>

After a bit of juggling Gosalyn unfolded the rug on the back lawn near the house and deposited Catlyn on it. Looking out, Gosalyn saw Justin was playing with the soccer ball and the goal net over at the back fence.

* * *

><p>"Now, Catlyn, this is a doll that mummy likes." Gosalyn knelt down on the rug and cracked open the Matryoshka doll.<p>

"Ahwa!" Catlyn's eyes were as big as saucers as Gosalyn mixed up all the doll tops and bottoms in front of Catlyn and handed her the smallest doll.  
>"It's a pretty cool toy, isn't it?" Gosalyn watched Catlyn's face. "While mummy goes and fetches the washing, why don't you try putting the pieces all back together into one doll like it was, huh?" Gosalyn ran her fingers through Catlyn's soft red hair and smiled. "Show mummy how clever you are."<p>

Catlyn's face beamed back to her in excitement. "Ochay, mummy! Ahwa!"

Gosalyn stood up, appreciating Catlyn hard at work, stuck into solving the puzzle for a moment, and then went down to the basement to collect the clothes.

* * *

><p>Catlyn was still bending her head down over the doll when Gosalyn came back up. Gosalyn put the basket down at the clothes line and came back to Catlyn, noting that Justin was still far off practicing hard at his goal kicks.<p>

"Have you figured it out yet, Catlyn?"  
>Catlyn beamed up at her and raised the completed doll to her in happy triumph. "Gotee won!"<br>Gosalyn felt a guilty satisfaction over her ulterior motive as she knelt down and accepted the doll. "Did you do that all by yourself?"  
>Catlyn nodded. "Yamummy! Eesfahn, see?" Catlyn snatched it back and put it on the rug. She lifted the top off it. "See, ees bigga." She handed her the top. Then she lifted the next top with a giggle. "Ees heidi, lighe mummy heidi far wark."<p>

Gosalyn beamed back at Catlyn, "hiding, yes, sweetie. You have definitely got it all figured out."

With a cackle Catlyn suddenly attacked the toy and had it all in pieces again. "Twiegang!" She stated happily and seized the smallest doll. "You go heidi." She said to the doll's face and then went searching through all the pieces for the next size up.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn stood up in slight amazement. She moved on past the clothes line over to Justin playing ball. "Hey, Justin, you didn't by any chance help Catlyn with the doll, did you?"<p>

Justin turned and looked up at her. "But she's not strong enough to squeeze it."  
>"What?" Gosalyn shook her head, "no-oo, not the transform-o-ghoul. I mean the Russian nesting doll that I gave her just now."<br>"Oh. No, Gosalyn. Daddy explained to me: Homework is something people do on their own so they can learn more about stuff."  
>"Sure." Gosalyn ruffled his head feathers, "I didn't think you did."<br>"What's it prove, Gosalyn?"  
>"It proves I've only got two suspects left on my list. Well, I don't know ... one and a half. Maybe."<p>

"You can't have a half a suspect!" Justin laughed, "it doesn't work like that ... oh, you're funny, Gosalyn."

Gosalyn blushed and stalked over to the clothes line, aware of Justin following after her. She seized some pegs and Justin offered up the first bit of clothes.

"Thanks. So okay, Justin, how does it work then?" Gosalyn pegged, and then grabbed the next lot of pegs and clothes. "He's been acting suspicious."  
>"Well," Justin bent down and handed Gosalyn one of her skirts by a corner, "daddy does say that people who act suspicious are bound to be up to something."<br>"Yeah." Gosalyn agreed.

She reached down and strung up a series of Catlyn's T-shirts. Red, yellow, pink. "That's pretty colourful." She remarked. Green, blue. Handed down from Raya and Justin was a world of rainbows. Their dad really had a thing for colours on his kids.

"Daddy says there's a whole world of not lying. So when you go to ask your suspect you've got to be really clever and outsmart him." Justin held up the last large piece of clothing in the basket.  
>"What if he's really clever too, Justin?"<br>"Well, then you've just got to be even more clever, Gosalyn." Justin argued matter-of-factly.  
>Gosalyn reached past him and snatched up some of her lingerie. "What if he's super clever?"<br>"Super clever?" Justin frowned, "just because Catlyn put the Russian doll back together?"

"She didn't just finish the nesting doll, Justin," Gosalyn explained to him, "she annihilated the puzzle. She put it all together in five minutes flat, explained the trick back to me and then used a pretty coherent simile to illustrate the concept in a way that she thought I would best understand."

"You can do the same thing, Gosalyn. And me, and-."

"You're missing the point, Justin. Talking, yes, maybe at five days old it isn't too freaky. But using similes to explain things? Now we're stretching the imagination a bit too far. Plus no way did she get that from me. I spend half an hour trying to put a short limerick together for year eleven English class. I still can't even get my head around the difference between past and passed sometimes. No, I'm looking for someone who is super clever."

"Well then, Gosalyn, then there's only one thing for it."  
>"What's that?" She looked down at her miniature sibling.<br>"If the suspect is really smarter than you then he'll know if you try to trick him any which way."

"Right. What?" Gosalyn was confused.

"Except for one way." Justin smiled and gestured for her to come closer. Gosalyn knelt down. "Daddy taught me this one especially so I could be ready to talk to Simon." He said in a hushed voice and cupped his hands, whispering in her ear. "Act like you're not one tiny bit clever the whole entire time. Don't let him think you have any sort of cleverness so then he doesn't think he has to worry about you figuring him out."

Gosalyn mused over this as she knelt on the grass beside her miniature brother. On one hand she had Honker and the other she had Steelbeak. "I'm afraid both of them have me sussed already." She paused, "did it work for you with Simon?"

Justin nodded. "I pretended to be a really little kid all the way up until he accidentally tickled me." Justin rubbed his face. "That's when I found out he was investigating us like I was investigating him. Only he was acting smart so he could get along with you."  
>"Yeah, I got that too." Gosalyn paused, "you're kinda saying the 'acting dumb' routine didn't work, though."<br>"Oh." Justin blinked at her. "Well, anyway, Simon really was up to something. Just not a bad something."  
>"Yeah, and figuring out how to get along with his girlfriend is a pretty big something."<p>

* * *

><p>"Surely those college boys ought to have woken up by now. Wanna come to music practice with Catlyn and me, Justin?" Gosalyn stood up.<br>"No thanks." Her little brother answered, "Dad will be up soon, and he's promised to teach me how to juggle like the blue clown in the movie!"

"Right, sure." Gosalyn gazed at her little brother. "Just don't run away to join the circus. We'd all miss you too much."  
>Justin laughed at that and ran off back to his soccer practice.<p>

Gosalyn came back to the rug and knelt down in front of Catlyn. Her daughter had the nesting dolls lined up beside each other at this point and was quietly watching them with her hands in her lap. "What's the matter, Catlyn? You've gotten all serious." Gosalyn looked at the line up. "Where's the baby one?"

Catlyn unfurled her fingers and put it in Gosalyn's hand. "Suffee missee, mummy. Madonna." Catlyn shrugged.  
>"One, two, three, four, five." Gosalyn counted the dolls out for Catlyn. "Six. No, they're all here. Shall we tidy up and head to music?"<br>"Ochay." Catlyn nodded. "Heeyah." She opened up the second smallest one. "You put, mummy."

Gosalyn slotted the baby doll into the one size up and Catlyn closed it up. The duckling then opened up the next one for Gosalyn to put it in.

"You've really got this down, haven't you?" Gosalyn remarked, following Catlyn's lead. "Bigger and smaller. "The smallest one left goes into the next smallest one." They finished up. "Now they're all hiding inside the biggest one. All tidy again."

Catlyn crawled forward for a hug. "Uove you, mummy."  
>Gosalyn sighed happily cuddling Catlyn, "oh, my good little girl. I love you too."<p> 


	79. Ch 8 Bored

_A/n: Okay, sorry, this is a bit scary but it's short._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER EIGHT<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Left Wing: Part 79<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>B-o-r-e-d<strong>

* * *

><p>It was a sunny Sunday after band practice and it was creeping towards lunchtime. Scarlet walked steadily up the quiet street pushing Catlyn's stroller. This marked the end of her term holiday adventures. This time tomorrow, she'd be back in school. Ducklet and Crowder were looking forward to audition day. Scarlet was crossing her fingers that Honker would make a show of it. Fortunately, Catlyn found music highly entertaining, cackling heartily during the riffs and occasionally squealing in surprised delight at the chord change in the ninth bar of the blues.<p>

Scarlet suddenly saw the contents of her life laid out in front of her in all its repetitive normality just like a twelve bar blues song stuck on repeat.

"This is great, isn't it, Crimson?" She said, hearing a note of doom in her voice. "Your mum's a successful ... musician. She'll be waiting tables for the rest of her life, busking on street corners and doing gigs on the side." Scarlet stared blankly into the shop windows as they went along. "Nuts, I'm bored. This is boring. How can I possibly be bored being a financially independent single mother juggling study?"

"Bodies bad?" Catlyn asked.

"Let's just say it's not fun." Scarlet grunted in answer and kept pushing the stroller onwards, glancing through the windows at the colourful boutique displays. The mannequins foretold the coming winter with their woolen mitts and long johns. Apparently, chocolate brown and orange was the in thing this autumn. Scarlet was glad she'd bought a new pastel green ski jacket in the last January sales because the last thing she wanted to be doing was getting a reminder of her ex-boss every time she reached for her coat.

"Yep." Scarlet nodded grimly to herself. This winter was going to hit her hard.

Scarlet stopped in front of a Last Minute store window. Through the glass she saw a pug nosed man in a grey sweater pointing a gun at the store clerk inside. "I've got to stop that crook!" Deftly she put her saxophone down beside the stroller. "Don't go anywhere, Catlyn, mum will be right back!" She dashed to the door and pushed it open.

* * *

><p>Halfway through the door Scarlet realised she was not dressed in anything but a sultry red dress.<p>

"Hey, big fellah. You gonna give me some of that money?" Scarlet sidled up towards the hoodlum with a smile on her face.  
>"Yeah, what else do you reckon?" He raised his gun at her.<br>Scarlet kept smiling as she judged the distance between them was perfect. "From all the outfits on the rack I picked this dress. Wanna know why?"

The solid built pug stared at her, not getting the warning. She twisted her torso out of aim and kicked him, and then she grabbed his gun hand and smashed an upper cut under his jaw. She twisted the gun out of his hand and slammed her other fist across his shoulders. He fell down on the floor, out for the count.

She threw the gun down on the counter. "You called the cops yet?"  
>"Y-yeah." The store clerk answered nervously.<br>"Well they should be here before he wakes up." Scarlet turned around. With a step, she was back at the shop's door and then she pulled it open.

* * *

><p>Scarlet stepped out onto the pavement to see Catlyn's stroller empty beside the saxophone case.<p>

"Catlyn!" She shrieked and looked wildly around the empty street.

Her daughter was gone.

Scarlet stopped the scream coming out of her mouth and sobbed instead. "Oh, my baby girl; I should never have left you alone for one second."


	80. Ch 8 Ambush

**Left Wing: Part 80**

* * *

><p><strong>Ambush<strong>

* * *

><p>Her heart was still pounding in her chest when Scarlet swallowed her tears and steeled her courage.<p>

"Alright, Q, get it together. Crying won't get her back. Somebody did this and someone is gonna get it big time." Kneeling down beside the stroller, Scarlet summoned all her detective training and looked for some evidence. "He took you out of the stroller." She looked down at her saxophone case still there. "Guy clearly doesn't care about money." Then she sniffed the air. "I know that cologne."

Scarlet got slowly up to a stand, feeling a shot of relief having the answer in front of her. "I ... know ... that's ... Eau de Feather!" She moved slowly about the area, sniffing to the left and to the right. "Oh, fudge, the cockerel just jumped out of the car, took you and got back in. Which direction? I don't have a clue on that one."

She rubbed her head. "What am I talking about? D'uh; he's probably just gone back home with you tucked under his arm, chortling away as he does."

A siren's wail was becoming louder. They were coming for the pug thug inside the store. Staying here any longer would get Scarlet detained for questions.

"I've got to get Catlyn back. I've got to get changed." Scarlet cast a portal to Darkwing Tower, picked up her saxophone, grabbed the handle of the stroller and then walked on through.

* * *

><p>Up at Darkwing Tower Scarlet marched over to the clothes rack and redressed into The Quiverwing Quack's uniform behind the partition. "Okay, stay nice and calm, Q." She ordered herself. "You know Steelbeak's just messing with your head. That's his game. You know his game; everything's going to be fine."<p>

With a grunt, she straightened her back, adjusting to the sudden weight of the heavy-duty gear. She briskly changed the colour of her eye shadow.

"The Quiverwing Quack knows where you live, Steelbeak." Quiverwing stated, looking at herself in her father's antique mirror. "But what you don't know is that I have a shortcut up my sleeve."

She raised her hand and cast a portal. "Aright, Steelbeak; lets have this out." Quiverwing gritted.

* * *

><p>After quietly stepping through onto the balcony of Steelbeak's apartment, Quiverwing took a good look through the window.<p>

'No Steelbeak. He's probably walking into the lobby right now.' She gripped the handle and discovered to her mild surprise that the door wouldn't budge. 'Crook lives on the twenty second level and he locks his balcony door. Cute. I think he's got a bead on what he's up against, but he's got nothing on me with a lock.' She took a bobby pin from her cuff and jimmied the latch, then she crept inside and shut the door behind her. 'Great, I'm in. What I've got to do now is wait.' She frowned, staring around at his minimalistic palace.

'And, what? He expects me to stand nice and still behind the curtain. Pfft, yeah right.' She walked quietly into Steelbeak's kitchen and rummaged through his fridge. There she discovered carrots, beans, cold sausages, tomatoes, pickles. 'Geez, that's the kind of stuff I eat when I'm at home.' Peering into his cupboards she spotted black and white square stoneware, appliances galore and not a speck of grime. 'Nice choice in crockery.'

Quiverwing turned and sighed, leaning against the fridge and stared over the counter into the open plan living room. 'Good grief, hurry up and get back here already; I'm sick to my stomach.' She blinked. 'Unless the lift stopped working. Oh, man, that'd be a two-for-one joke on me ...'

Casting her eyes across the open plan Quiverwing noticed the cubist painting on the far wall was gone. In its place, hanging by its string like a trophy, was a familiarly arched bit of wood.  
>'Oh, look!' With her eyes on her bow, Quiverwing slipped across from the kitchen and picked her way through the living room. Quiverwing glanced around for the telltale electric beam red eyes. Gently she slipped her hands around the security beam and carefully rescued her bow from Steelbeak's wall. She hooked it over her shoulder where it belonged and crept back into the kitchen to wait for Steelbeak to return with her daughter.<p>

Because he just had to.


	81. Ch 8 To Meet You

**Left Wing: Part 81**

* * *

><p><strong>Pleased to Meet You<strong>

* * *

><p>The door clicked and Quiverwing dove down under the counter. She listened and heard footsteps into the room.<p>

"... Yeah, girly, all of the time." Steelbeak's voice answered a question that Quiverwing's hearing hadn't caught.

She heard him sit down on one of the chairs in the room. 'No, which one?' Quiverwing realised she didn't know. At least Catlyn seemed to be okay if he was chatting to her, which was like, 75% relief, Quiverwing reasoned.

"Kid, look, sit still; what is your problem?"  
>"Wahm?"<br>"Yeah?" There was a pause. "Tough break, kid." Quiverwing heard him stand up again. "You like music, kid?"  
>"Yeah!" Catlyn quacked. Quiverwing grimaced. Her daughter was just a little too enthusiastic for talking to this stranger. There was definitely going to be a lecture on this once they got home.<br>"So how about I put some on then?"  
>"Han-ku Unka ..." Catlyn took a breath. "Seabeach."<br>'Oh, yikes.' Quiverwing mentally slapped herself. 'Me and my ranting.'

Since she knew Catlyn would have curled herself up where Steelbeak had been sitting, Quiverwing was confident Steelbeak and Catlyn were far away from each other at this moment. Quiverwing kept low and skirted around the breakfast bench and into the lounge room also keeping an eye on the cockerel consulting his music collection.

At the end of the lounge chair now, Quiverwing looked down to Catlyn and put her finger to her beak. Catlyn had a startled look on her face. Catlyn quickly clasped her fingers around her beak and kept quiet.

To the other side the machine had just taken in Steelbeak's CD. Quiverwing recognised the cover as Guns n Roses. She turned and took a silent step up behind Steelbeak. When the muscles in his back tensed in awareness that she was behind him, Quiverwing straightened to a normal stance.  
>"Try track fourteen." She offered darkly.<p>

Steelbeak changed the tracks obediently. The sound of maracas and drums started up.

_"Please allow me to introduce myself_  
><em>I'm a man of wealth and taste.<em>  
><em>I've been around for a long, long year<em>  
><em>Stole many a man's soul and faith ..."<em>

Steelbeak let out a laugh.

"Have you got a death wish?" Quiverwing hissed. "I mean, what is this, Mr. Desperado? Aren't you successful here without me?"  
>"No way, toots." He turned to her. "I'm bored coz 'this' is just too easy." He gestured to his very nice apartment and his successful criminal life generally.<br>"Oh good grief." She rubbed her head. "You didn't just say what I've been feeling all day?"  
>"I mean, what I don't gotta try here? It's as dull as dishwater." He nodded at her. "I see you dressed up for me."<br>"Yeah, what do you reckon?" She shrugged with a blush behind her mask.  
>"It fits you better. Of course, I ain't saying that other number don't drive a man stir crazy." He eyed her. "You put on twenty kilos or something?"<br>She raised an eyebrow. "Or something. So this is it. You just wanted me out of the red dress?"  
>He chortled. "Oh, you don't know the half of that one."<br>"I think I do, that's why I said it that way." She turned from him and looked back to Catlyn on the lounge watching them. 'Oops.' Flirting was probably not a PG thing she should be doing.

"You better keep an eye on her." Steelbeak advised, momentarily earnest from behind her. "Your cub has got a low feather count; she needs a bit more protection from the cold."

_"... and the bodies stank ..." _

Quiverwing froze and turned slowly back to him. "You've got ... a low feather count?" She breathed in shock.

_"... Pleased to meet you ..."_

"Sure, hey, it's no big deal, so what?" He said mildly defensive, "I ain't in my bathing togs. The kid will get by; she just needs a bit of help."  
>"I never even heard of such a thing before in my life!" Quiverwing exclaimed. And now she'd heard it twice in as many days.<br>"Well, hey, you cain't trust everything a bad guy says."  
>"Darn it." Quiverwing shut her eyes, looking for courage. There was something she actually liked about Steelbeak and that was being a real problem for her right now. "I've gotta go."<br>"Hey, what's your problem? I struck some sort of chord here?"  
>"The problem is ... the problem." She tried to make it make sense. Following him for S.H.U.S.H. for so long had made her obsessed with him. But was that really it, or did it just make it worse?<p>

_"... Introduce myself ..."_

"Steely, if our roles were reversed the situation we were in would be so darn near identical it'd be impossible to tell which the straight one was. I mean, I don't have your CDs only coz I'm not your age. That doesn't mean I wouldn't sit here and enjoy them. You've got my cup in your cupboard and my cold sausages in your fridge and you did something stupid today at the exact same time I was in that store doing something equally stupid."  
>"Yeah-I dunno how you got in here before me. How'd you know it was me so quick anyway?"<p>

The music went into an instrumental riff.

"You leave a faint impression on the world wherever you go. Plus, I can't mistake your Eau de Feather." She smiled at him and backed away towards the lounge. "You're like chocolate mud cake, Steely. But I'm going to go and be somebody on the other side of the border so I can't stand around indulging myself." Quiverwing picked Catlyn up from the chair, grinning at Steelbeak. No, she wasn't mad at him at all.

_"Pleased to meet you_  
><em>Hope you guessed my name...<em>  
><em>But what's bothering you<em>  
><em>Is just the nature of my game...<em>  
><em>Just as every cop is a criminal<em>  
><em>And all the sinners saints<em>  
><em>As heads is tails<em>  
><em>Just call me Quiverwing<em>  
><em>Coz' I'm in need of some restraint!"<em>

She threw down a full smoke tablet and cast a portal.

* * *

><p>As she put both feet back on the cold floor of Darkwing Tower The Quiverwing Quack officially stepping her brain out of retirement.<p>

"Eesat you heidi, mummy?" Catlyn asked while in her arms.  
>Quiverwing hugged Catlyn close, "yeah, sweetheart, you got it in one." She sighed in relief as normality settled back in. "That was the biggest reality check of my life."<p>

Quiverwing crossed the tower and put Catlyn in Darkwing's armchair. She stepped back around the desk to start pacing. "If I was thinking like I should as The Quiverwing Quack instead of the half-baked Scarlet none of that would have ever happened. Well that's it for Scarlet." She gazed at her precious duckling. "From now on I stand up for myself like a proper Mallard and not get pushed around by Grizlykoff."

Quiverwing levelled at Catlyn. "So that's my lesson, Catlyn, and now this lesson is for you. It's really important you remember this one, Catlyn. Are you listening to mummy?"  
>"Yahmummy?"<br>Quiverwing took a deep breath. "No talking to strangers that you haven't been introduced to. It's not safe."  
>"Nawuncaseebee! Manoweem!" Catlyn rushed. "Eesagoobaysee ..." She paused for breath, "andasaiso!"<br>"D'oh, I take that as a yes." Quiverwing rubbed her face. "You've got to slow down, Catlyn; mummy can't keep up with you."

Putting her hands on her hips, she watched Catlyn staring back at her. "I'm Darkwarrior mum." Quiverwing mused and went to tapping her beak slowly. "There's got to be a job somewhere in S.H.U.S.H. that fits my kind of qualifications."  
>"Isypuff knees a mummy." Catlyn offered in answer.<br>"Isy-..." Quiverwing giggled. "Yeah, Catlyn, Isypuff does." She put her hands flat on the table and leaned earnestly towards Catlyn. "Only you are much more important, remember that, young lady."

Catlyn smiled brightly. "Uove you too, mummy."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Mick Jagger and Keith Richards wrote 'Sympathy for the Devil' for the Rolling Stones. I personally prefer the surround sound effect of Guns and Roses but this is coming from a fan of __Gotham__City__ motorcycle drag race scenes._


	82. Ch 8 Ruled Out

_A/n: Repeat after me: 'Honker and his weird behaviour is not a sentence.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Left Wing: Part 82<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Ruled Out<strong>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing redressed herself into Gosalyn and cast a portal to her bedroom. "Come on, Catlyn, safely home now." She picked her daughter up from Darkwing's armchair and carried Catlyn through.<p>

Gosalyn set Catlyn down on the dark blue bunny rug and then opened up her top drawer in search of the evidence packets. Catlyn's eggshell was in one evidence bag and Steelbeak's feathers were in the other. She raised Steelbeak's feathers to her eyes remembering Catlyn calling him 'Uncle Steelbeak'. Granted the idea of her daughter treating an international criminal as an uncle did not sit well in Gosalyn's mind, but 'uncle' was what Steelbeak was passing himself off as. She sat down at her desk and flipped open her notebook.

_'Uncle versus father'_ Gosalyn quietly wrote down with her pencil.  
><em>'No parenting claim.'<em>  
><em>'I can't pin him down either way so not a motive.'<em>  
><em>'Father equals big joke so not a motive.'<em>

"Well, that doesn't seem very evil of you, 'Uncle Steelbeak'." Gosalyn stared at the page. "Let's Psych 101 this."

_'Who is SB?'_

_'DW - A spade is a spade but not necessarily the right spade.'_  
><em>'SB - Calls them how he sees them.'<em>

_'Therefore'_ Gosalyn wrote down her conclusion.

_'An uncle is an uncle but not necessarily the right uncle.'_

Impressed with how apt the words were Gosalyn double ticked 'not' and 'right'.

Gosalyn picked up her notebook and reviewed her work. It certainly seemed highly unlikely that Steelbeak was Catlyn's father now. But there was one simple way to rule Steelbeak and his low feather count completely off and that was to get Honker to do a DNA match.

"This brings me to Honker with his weird behaviour..." Gosalyn sat back against her chair and looked over at Catlyn happily playing with her coloured wooden blocks. Was it even at all possible that Catlyn and Honker were connected? Should Gosalyn even dare to think such wicked things of her best friend?

"But what is going on with Honker?" She sighed. "Climbing trees," She shook her head. "Dodging questions" Gosalyn sat back in her chair. "Hang on a minute here!" She exclaimed in surprise. "Honker never even came back to me with the footage!"

"But I've been busy," Gosalyn discounted, "I never give him a chance to talk!" She stood up, and then sat back down again. "But he can't be in on it. But then what other rational explanation could there be?"

For a moment Gosalyn watched Catlyn playing on the rug. One, two, three, four blocks went balancing on top of each other. Catlyn then crowned the stack with a matchbox car which sent the whole thing crashing down much to Catlyn's glee. Gosalyn recalled the song Honker had picked to play for Catlyn and quietly sang the first two lines to herself as she jotted them down on a fresh page in her notebook.

_"She says it's cold outside and she hands me my raincoat._  
><em>She's always worried about things like that ..."<em>

Then Gosalyn started remembering bits of conversations with Honker and wrote them down on her notepad as she thought of them.

_'Q - Doesn't "X" scare you, Honker?'_  
><em>'H - ... not for long because then I ask you for help.'<em>

_'Q - Whose side are you on, Honker?'__  
><em>'H - Not Steelbeak's, that's for sure.'<em>_

Gosalyn remembered his bright red face at the time. "Why would his face go red like that?"  
>"What if ... no." Gosalyn tapped the end of her pencil against her beak. "He'd honestly tell me if he liked me like that." She frowned as another memory popped into her head.<p>

_'H - I want to say something (potentially mushy) to you but I don't want to get punched.'_  
><em>'Q - Don't push your luck too far, Honk.'<em>

"Oh, no, he 'honestly' wouldn't!" Gosalyn groaned and rubbed her face. "Okay. This is the plan: I rattle his cage and then let him do the talking. I'll lay odds that I'll just be proving what a total ditz I am and it has nothing to do with him having a crush on me."

"It's time to see Honker." Gosalyn stood up decisively and collected Catlyn up from the floor.  
>"Matoi!" Catlyn reached out for the blocks.<br>Gosalyn picked up a block and handed it to her. "We won't be long, Catlyn, hon. I just need to get up to speed with Honker." Gosalyn grabbed the two evidence bags in a spare hand and took Catlyn next door.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn went around the neatly hedged picket fence to next door and knocked on the Muddlefoot's front door. It opened and Binkie was there in a blue dress that had large white spots on it.<p>

"Oh, hello, Gosalyn dear, how are you and Catlyn doing?"  
>"We're fine, Mrs. Muddlefoot. That's a nice dress." Gosalyn added.<br>"Oh." Binkie blushed, "this old thing? I've had it for years."  
>"It looks nice on you. Is Honker in?"<br>"Honker's in his room, dear. Go right up."  
>"Thanks." She passed by Honker's mum and went up the stairs.<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn shifted Catlyn to her hip so she had her hand with the evidence bags free to knock on Honker's door.<p>

"Hi Gosalyn." Honker let her in and she closed the door behind her.  
>"Honker, you did pull the security tape, right?" Gosalyn watched him.<br>"Yes-."  
>"Could you put it away somewhere safe for later? And can you put these with it?" She held up the two evidence bags.<br>"Sure, Gos."  
>"Thank you, Honk. You're the best." Gosalyn leaned in forwards and kissed him on the cheek.<p>

Honker straightened his glasses and looked away from her nervously. "I'm not sure what would be the appropriate thing to say at this juncture."  
>"Um, that'll do just fine." Gosalyn smiled in embarrassment back at him. "I'll let you get back to studying, and maybe I can try concentrating at some point today and get at least some of my study done as well before school tomorrow." She babbled incoherently. "I'll see you later, Honker." She stepped out the door in a flurry.<p>

"This is so embarrassing." Gosalyn felt the hot blush on her face as she stood in the Muddlefoot corridor thinking about what she'd just done. "I could just die!"


	83. Ch 8 Move

**LEFT WING: PART 83**

* * *

><p><strong>Move<strong>

* * *

><p>"Gosalyn, Gosalyn, wait!" Honker's urgent voice called her exit to a halt.<p>

With Catlyn in her arms and her heart pounding in her chest, Gosalyn turned around from the Muddlefoot stairwell.

"Yes, Honker?"  
>"While you're between boyfriends and between jobs, now is probably a good time to ask this. It's about next year."<br>"Next year?" Gosalyn exclaimed quietly as the crazed drama she was expecting dropped out completely with the temporal distance.

"Next year is months away."

* * *

><p>Gosalyn came back to face Honker in the upstairs corridor.<p>

"Can't we think about the next couple of weeks instead?" She asked him, "We're having the audition for lead guitarist."  
>"That's-the-problem!" Honker suddenly erupted and stepped past her to the landing. "I mean ..." He turned back to her, "It's-always-something-else! We don't ever get time to talk anymore. It's driving me crazy, Gosalyn!" He gestured wildly with his arms.<br>"Yeah, well, I'm really sorry I've been so busy!" She quacked back. "I've learnt that lesson. It doesn't pay. I'm-really-trying, Honker!"  
>"Well, good!" Honker retorted still loudly. "So then, if you're willing to try and spend more time with people that actually care about you, you'll quit looking for a myth and settle-for-reality!"<p>

Gosalyn blinked at him. "What do you mean by that exactly?" She asked in a normal voice. "What reality?"

Honker took a breath. "Will you go with me to the year 12 formal?"  
>"The-what?"<br>"Our graduation evening: also known as senior prom night, year 12 break-up party or end of school dance."  
>"Gosh, Honk ..." Gosalyn gaped at him. "I ... I don't know what to say."<br>Honker pushed his glasses up his beak. "It's really just a yes or no answer, Gosalyn." He advised in a more normal tone.

Gosalyn stood there, staring at Honker for a long moment. All this time acting weird and he was just worrying about having a date for the year 12 formal?

* * *

><p>Catlyn broke the stunned silence by dropping her toy and started looking over Gosalyn's arm for it.<p>

"Let's look at this logically, Honkman." Gosalyn crossed the corridor to fetch the block for her duckling and then turned to Honker again. "It's a bit early to start getting desperate for a date for the formal." She resettled Catlyn in her arms as she looked at him. "The right girl might come along from here to then, and then you'll have two dates or one of us is going to get sorely ditched."  
>"Yes; the right girl." Honker looked away from her with a sigh. "I know who the right girl is, Gosalyn, but I can't seem to reach her."<br>"Hey, you can't give up." Gosalyn encouraged him brightly, "You've still got over twelve months to corner her."

Catlyn dropped her toy again.

Gosalyn picked up Catlyn's dropped toy once more. "Catlyn, I must assume that by you doing that twice it means you don't want it anymore."  
>"Matoi." Catlyn curled her fingers around Gosalyn's gripping the block and battled to pull it away.<br>"It won't be your toy anymore if you throw it down again." Gosalyn warned her severely and let her have it. "Mummy doesn't have your granddad's patience, baby, and mummy's trying to have a discussion with Honker."

"Maybe you could give me some advice on how to talk to this girl I really like?" Honker asked steadily, looking off over the railing to the hallway below.  
>"You gotta quack to be heard, Honk." Gosalyn said kindly. "That's the biggest, hardest thing you need to do, I guarantee it."<br>Honker sighed. "I tried that just recently. She still didn't seem to take me seriously."  
>Gosalyn hissed. "Ouch. So much for the war effort."<p>

"Do you think maybe I should be getting her presents to try and get her attention?"  
>"Maybe ..." Gosalyn shrugged ... "it depends on what sort of girl she is. It works on my mum. Flowers are okay but I couldn't think of anything worse than having my room stuffed with teddy bears and not to sound like a certain role model crime fighter, but too much chocolate is not good for the old teenage mood swings. The first thing I think you need to do is repeat yourself to this girl. It can't be a joke the second time around. She's got to take you seriously then."<p>

"Okay. That shouldn't be any more difficult than it was the first time." Honker decided, looking down at his hand on the banister.  
>"Good." Gosalyn smiled.<p>

He cleared his throat and turned to her. "Gosalyn Mallard, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Me?" Gosalyn spluttered, struggling for a breath. "You were just ... asking me advice ... on me?"


	84. Ch 8 Wait

**LEFT WING: PART 84**

* * *

><p><strong>The Wait<strong>

* * *

><p>Her insides were quaking as Gosalyn stared at Honker for another long moment against the background of the striped yellow Muddlefoot wallpaper that glowed in the light of the stairwell skylight and the painted white wooden balcony railing behind him.<p>

Honker nodded seriously. "You would be the best expert on you."

"But ... we're just friends!"  
>"No, I'm sorry; I have to disagree with you, Gosalyn." Honker frowned. "I'm 'just friends' with Millicent Greenleaf."<br>"And why not Millicent, anyway?" Gosalyn recalled the quiet little mouse in her pink dancing dress with a chessboard in her backpack. "She seems very sweet."  
>"I don't want sweet, Gosalyn; I want you." Honker said in a strained voice, "and I think you're missing the fact that I'm not Millicent's 'type'." He emphasised pointedly. "A fact, by the way, that doesn't matter a single bit to me because she's not you."<br>"Wow..." Gosalyn gaped at him and tried rocking Catlyn to settle her down. "I didn't get that newsflash."

"Oh, Gosalyn." Honker sighed with a shake of his head. "You pick boys and date them, expecting them to think like you and act like your dad does." He took a breath. "But that's your world, Gosalyn, not theirs, and they're always going to fail that test because the simple fact is that they don't live there." He crossed his arms. "I don't live there either, Gosalyn, but my research indicates that Gizmoduck's secret identity is already married with kids."  
>"Ew!" Gosalyn grimaced at the very idea. "Gyah, you researched that airhead for my benefit? Yuck! Not only that but he's crusty."<br>Honker shrugged. "I thought it was a good idea to scope out any foreseeable opponents."  
>"You want to pick a more rational argument to debate for the next round, Honker." Gosalyn grizzled. "That one was just gross."<p>

"Shall we move on to your next possible argument then?"  
>"I shudder to think what that one could be!" Gosalyn shuffled the pushy, restless Catlyn onto her hip and rubbed the back of her prickling neck with her spare hand. "Seriously."<br>"I think I'm prepared for a full volley." Honker said quietly, confidently folding his arms. "Why don't you think of one?"  
>"Well, okay, this is it," Gosalyn answered, hearing her voice quivering in fear. "If we start dating than we can't really be best friends anymore." Gosalyn whimpered tearfully. "If we break up, I won't have a best friend."<br>"Gosalyn ..." Honker replied in a strained voice. "If we're going to go according to strict definition, we're already not friends anymore."  
>"Funny; I didn't get that bulletin either." Gosalyn frowned, blinking back tears. "When did that happen?"<br>"When I freaked out that you got hurt." He nodded meaningfully at the misbehaving Catlyn. "I freaked out so much, Gosalyn, because I'm in love with you and I found myself imagining all the fun in my life gone without you. I feel it too keenly when you're not around. Tell me if I'm imagining it but you need me too ... and you are pretty. You're very very pretty. So there."

* * *

><p>Catlyn was swinging her legs in the air.<p>

"Oof, Catlyn." Distracted, Gosalyn lifted Catlyn back up from her hip and into both arms again so she wouldn't drop her for all her air kicking. "Honker, we might be the band playing for the year 12 formal. If that happens it won't even matter about finding a date that night."  
>"That suits me fine because it means we'll still be together." He took a breath. "Just to let you know, this is extremely stressful waiting for you to make a decision."<p>

"Oh ..." Gosalyn took a breath. "Sorry. I'm finding it stressful too."

Right at this moment Gosalyn decided she was tired of getting messed around with by guys who never were interested in commitment. "Maybe I don't want to date danger anymore." Gosalyn smiled quietly at him, making her mind up. "I do that part quite fine for myself at work, and you're right; I'll never get a break dating those kinds of guys. Two timing quarterbacks just rub me up the wrong way and internationally recognised criminals may be clever but they're just plain wrong."  
>"It would save you quite a bit of trouble by taking this route sooner rather than later." He added and pushed his glasses back up his beak. "But I think I should warn you that I'm not as easy to get rid of as Ulrich Dogsworth and as far as I'm concerned Carl Eider was just a wimp and as for Jim Fleetwood ... well, you're a lady and he should've treated you better."<br>"Honker." Gosalyn felt her face warm.

"I know I'm not perfect, but I'm not a wrong choice either."

There was one true fact about Honker that blew Gosalyn away. "You know ... that takes real guts to ask me, Honk."  
>"Then I guess the question is if you think I'm gutsy enough." Honker frowned at her. "But for the record I think I am."<p>

Gosalyn felt her heart melt. "If you think you are up for the challenge then I'm happy to take a shot at it with you, Honker." She moved forwards, feeling her legs shaking under her and kissed him on the beak for a moment. There was no sense of danger and nothing seemed wrong about this choice at all. Despite her trembling body and her bored, squirming duckling in her arms, it was a sweet and gentle kiss.

"Mabodmummy!" Catlyn suddenly quacked and physically tried to push them apart.

Gosalyn stepped back from Honker, doing her best to ignore Catlyn's misbehaviour. "I'm sure I drive you to frustration sometimes, Honker."  
>"Yeah, and that's who you are. I love you, Gosalyn. Nobody else looks through a telescope at meteors with me, and nobody else drags me all the way out of town to see it first hand." He smiled at her in his recollections. "Nobody else has me climbing trees just to knock on their window, hoping they're there to see them."<br>"Honestly, Honker! I've been wanting to as this for a while now. Why do you not just come in through the front door like everyone else?"  
>"It's Raya." He answered shortly. "She's like a bouncer and I just can't get past her. She takes one sniff of me and bars me from getting in through the door."<p>

"Gerwarmatattoomafoobahnahnahfingmabo-orred!" Catlyn interrupted, pushing on Gosalyn's arm urgently and distraughtly started wriggling non-stop. The toy block went flying up the corridor.  
>Gosalyn raised an eyebrow at Honker as she took the distressed Catlyn by the waist and hung her upside down.<br>"Yihee!"

"If Raya's doing that to you then I guess it's got to be true."  
>"Yes or no, Gos?"<br>"How can I possibly say no? Yes, Honker, I'd love to."  
>"Mabodmum-my! Ma-bo-ored! Mum-my!" Catlyn quacked upside down.<br>"This is kind of epic." Gosalyn adjusted the fussing Catlyn back the right way in her arms. "For me, anyway. I suspect Catlyn's going insane from staying still for so long, however. Would you like to join us for some afternoon tea later, Honker Muddlefoot?"  
>Honker smiled. "I would be delighted to, Gosalyn Mallard."<p>

Gosalyn smiled at him and turned for the stairs.

* * *

><p>Then she remembered the other reason she'd come.<p>

"Just one question." Gosalyn paused on the top step and turned back to him. "Have you got a high feather count or a low one?"  
>"Gosalyn, be careful." Honker warned her, looking at her feet. "Can I hold Catlyn?" He held out his hands and Gosalyn handed her over. "Now we're safe."<br>"Honker, can I look at your arm?"  
>"I do not see the relevance." He backed away from her.<br>"Catlyn has a low feather-I mean, the doctor says her down is very thin."  
>Honker bounced the still unsettled Catlyn in his arms, "don't you have a low feather count too, Gosalyn?"<br>"Yeah, I do but she can't be like me in every way."  
>"I anticipated this." Honker breathed. "And it still scares the heck out of me." Honker stopped bouncing Catlyn and turned the struggling duckling upside down the way Gosalyn had done earlier and left her hanging for the moment.<p>

"How'd you know my feather count is low?"  
>"Do you remember a long time ago when we coated your dad in Teflon? It made me think about the speed you travel at compared to me."<br>"Yeah; you don't move too fast."  
>"True." He nodded. "And how much do I eat, Gosalyn?"<br>"Not much."  
>"Correct." He took Catlyn back into his arms and started rocking her, "So based on my weight, consumption and speed ratio you can form what conclusion about my feather count?"<br>"I don't want to think, Honker, cut it out! I just want to know!"  
>"I have a high feather count." He obliged her. "In terms of Catlyn, that proves absolutely nothing because the genetic quirk is also possessed by you. To mean anything you need to be looking for genetic quirks that aren't also yours."<p>

He lifted Catlyn up so she could see over his shoulder, rubbing her back. "I'd better take Catlyn back next door. You can look at the security tape on your own and calm down." He took Catlyn back into his arms. "That is of course," he added in a suddenly testy voice, "if you think I haven't doctored it. It won't mean much to you if you think I have." He pushed past Gosalyn, heading down the stairs in a flurry.  
>"Honker, I didn't mean it like that!" Gosalyn called after him desperately, feeling suddenly sick in her stomach. "Honker!"<br>"I'll baby sit Catlyn." He called back up. "The disc is already in my player for you." He reported and slammed the front door behind him in his hurry.

* * *

><p>"I've really upset Honker." Gosalyn gulped in horror.<p> 


	85. Ch 8 The Chase

**LEFT WING: PART 85**

* * *

><p><strong>The Great Chase<strong>

* * *

><p>"How did that happen?" Gosalyn asked the now empty corridor. Catlyn was gone, Honker was gone. It had all happened so suddenly.<p>

A door down the Muddlefoot's upstairs yellow wallpaper covered corridor wrenched open.

"I'll tell you!" Honker's elder brother Tank snarled. He was big and bulky, nearly the size of Grizlykoff. Beneath a hot mullet of red hair, Tank fixed his bleary bloodshot eyes on Gosalyn's. "Because the instant some guy says 'I love you' you shut down. It's not because they're lying. It's because you can't trust them anymore. And you wanna know the crummy reason why you can't trust them, Gozzy?"

Gosalyn shrugged in professional defence mode. She was not to be undone in front of the likes of Tank Muddlefoot. "Lay it on me, Tank-top."  
>Tank blanched. "I hate when you call me that." He whined.<br>"I know." Gosalyn grinned savagely back at him. "That's why I say it."

"W-you wanna hear the big crummy joke on you, Gozzy?" Tank fired up again, "Why you hate your boyfriends, why you can't trust them? How you could just turn on Honker without even meaning to?"  
>"The big joke." Gosalyn repeated in earnest, "I couldn't be any more interested."<p>

Tank leaned back, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face. "Well, isn't that nice? Now, what's my name, Gozzy?"  
>"It's still 'Tank-top'," She snarked, "because you and I are 'friends', Tank," Gosalyn stressed vindictively, "and if it's a good joke, I'll delete the photos from my password protected phone." She smirked.<br>He gritted his teeth. "What is with you two? Honker already did that trick."  
>"Honk and I just don't get much entertainment in our lives. Go on, Tank, wipe me out. Give me your absolute best shot. I need it." She pulled her phone from her pocket with a lark in her voice, "ready to go".<p>

"Alright, so here it is. When I say 'love', I mean it 'right now' coz it's like scoring a goal. When you say 'love', you want it to mean 'forever' coz that's like chasing after the ball." He smirked wickedly, "and I've seen you chasing after that ball, Gozzy. The big joke is that you want love to be this big chase and the guys you dig stop running as soon as they think they've got a score. I know coz they've all been like me."  
>Gosalyn paused, taking it all in. "Where did you get to be so insightful, Tank?"<br>"W-I haven't been sleeping much," Tank rubbed his bleary eyes, "Because 'somebody' next door has been keeping me up with their crying baby every-night-this-week!" He gritted angrily, "and here you guys are yakking away in the corridor on my last day off from work. Don't mind me, I just live here!" He complained as Gosalyn quietly deleted her photo library and showed him the empty folder.

Now Tank felt safe again the menace in him dramatically increased. "Now I want you to listen good and careful, Gozzy." He snarled at her and poked her with his podgy finger. "Honker's 'my' little brother, you hear? He's got brains so if you're gonna go out with him I expect you to hear him out or I'll pound you into the dirt. I'll also pound you into the dirt if you ever dare rough him up."

Gosalyn blinked at Tank. "Alright, I seriously wasn't expecting the last part of that lecture." She saluted him, "message received, Tank. I'm going to go watch this DVD he wants me to watch now."  
>"Good idea. And ... do it quietly, for a change, will you? Honestly; some people."<p>

Gosalyn backed over to Honker's door and watched as Tank shut himself away from the light again before she went into Honker's room.

Really, she accepted, under those conditions Tank's brotherly vengeance would be every bit deserved.

* * *

><p>'I'm sure I only just said that I didn't want to watch this.' Gosalyn flicked on the TV and turned on the player. 'It must be the detective in me; I've just got to know.' She pressed play and sat down on Honker's purple and grey doona covered bed to watch.<p>

'There's Steelbeak, there's the eggmen, there's me fighting, I go down, they freak out ... nothing happens on the screen for several minutes ...'

Next Darkwing Duck appeared at the top of the ramp and crossed over to Steelbeak's position at the controls. 'He's deactivated the fuse.' On the screen Gosalyn watched as he jumped down from the workstation and came to kneel down beside Quiverwing to check on her. At this point he jumped in surprise looking sideways, just now noticing the egg. He took off his hat and scooped up the egg. Then he looked back at Quiverwing lying there. This time he sat down beside her and waited.

Minutes later Gosalyn watched Launchpad make his way into the view of the camera. Darkwing handed him his fedora hat with the egg. Launchpad then mouthed something that made Darkwing jump up to a stand and make a loud gesture before he put his hand to his face. They stood there in that position for several moments and then Launchpad started talking again.

"If I zoom in I could read his beak." Gosalyn mused.

Darkwing then picked Quiverwing up and they left the factory.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn jolted as she realised she'd watched the whole thing. "There was no one there!" Gosalyn squawked angrily at the ridiculously large TV screen in Honker's bedroom. "It had to be then!" She replayed the disc, hitting the fast forward button. There was a big window of time in which something must have happened but it hadn't shown up on the camera.<p>

It was quite literally nobody.

Gosalyn sank back on Honker's bed and rewound the tape again, gazing dizzily at the empty factory as everyone went backwards. "No way," she whispered in shock, "I am not just looking at nothing." She pressed play again and half-closed her eyes, leaning back against Honker's wall. "Nobody ..." she rubbed her face, put the remote on the bed beside her and then shut her eyes. "Heavy duty, Q."

Gosalyn reopened her eyes to watch her father gesture furiously at Launchpad on the screen. "I don't know who did it. I wasn't here. I don't know everything!" She watched him put his hand to his face, "I'm sorry, LP, you know that, I'm just mad at myself because I couldn't get here on time." Gosalyn guessed the verbal exchange. "Launchpad's turn, saying in a comforting tone the obvious fact that dad can't always be everywhere all the time and ..." she sighed resignedly, "I'm not the only child he has to look after so sometimes he has to choose between us."

Gosalyn watched Darkwing pick her up and carry her out of the factory again. "No-body." She sighed and laid back on Honker's cassette printed pillow.

"Disappeared more than reappeared." She recalled her words from last night. John Doe was such a blip he didn't even show up on a stupid camera. It was like something out of Star Ducks.

" 'Nobody' freaked those eggmen out. 'Nobody' is on Catlyn's birth certificate. 'Nobody' might not even know he's a father because it's conceivable that 'Nobody' could've done it by accident as he fizz-blipped past. I've got to say I wasn't expecting to see this answer on the tape." Gosalyn stared at the ceiling. For some odd reason Honker had a large number of glow in the dark stars on his ceiling in the intricate pattern of 'AB if A + B'. "Talk about over my head." Gosalyn grunted in annoyance at discovering homework reminders even on Honker's roof and sat up. "I can't hunt down 'Nobody'. Even dad has admitted he's having trouble." She picked up the remote and switched the TV and the player off. "I'm just going to have to get on with my life." She put down the remote and stood up, walked out of the room and downstairs.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn discovered Binkie with a spray bottle and a rag in her hands wiping the painted banister. "Oh, Gosalyn, I thought you were with Honker?"<br>"Yeah, I was just watching one of his DVDs." Gosalyn answered Binkie as she reached for the handle of the front door. "And it was for adults, so he took Catlyn back next door."

"Oh!"

"It wasn't really that bad." Gosalyn admitted. "There was absolutely nothing to see; it was everything you didn't see that was the problem, and you just didn't see it happen." She repeated and went out the door.  
>"Tsk. I really don't understand these psychological thrillers you young adults are interested in." Binkie shut the door behind her.<p>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn walked back along the pathway and down to her home. For a moment she stared up at the odd half modern, half two hundred year old white painted house she called home. Inside as she crossed the threshold the banister was wood, the wallpaper was grey with purple highlights, the roof was tinted slightly grey and it was magically bigger than the Muddlefoot's house.<p>

"Dad?" Gosalyn crossed through the hallway into the kitchen. "Dad?"  
>"Uh, yes, hon?" He answered distractedly.<br>She came over and hugged him as he stood there with the makings of a salad on the cutting board. "I don't feel like a victim anymore."

"Then congratulations: You're not a victim anymore." He smiled back at her. However, instead of picking up the chef's knife and calmly resuming the job of cutting up more lettuce, Drake paused and looked up at the roof. "Well, that was certainly weird."

"What?" Gosalyn quacked, her nerves immediately on edge. She didn't wait for his answer and instead bolted straight up the stairs.


	86. Ch 8 Rocket

**Left Wing: Part 86**

* * *

><p><strong>Rocket<strong>

* * *

><p>Gosalyn raced up to her room to discover Honker at the window and Catlyn sitting silently on the floor.<br>"You guys alright?" She asked tensely looking from one to the other.  
>"Yes." Honker answered. "Everything's alright, isn't it, Catlyn?" He smiled and bent down to pick Catlyn up into an awkward hug.<p>

Gosalyn double checked Catlyn and realised it was awkward because Catlyn was soaked. Even her hair was sticking damply down over her head.

"There's something wrong here." Gosalyn frowned. She looked around at Catlyn's toys scattered all across the floor. "Where's her rug? What did you need her rug for?"

"I, er ..." Honker frowned nervously, "I ... Quantum Mechanics!" He answered unsteadily. "I'd better get home." He handed Catlyn over.  
>Instantly Gosalyn had wet nappy aversion problems too. "Honker, I-."<br>"See you later, Gos." There was calm certainty in his voice and now that Gosalyn was looking for it she also caught the note of affection with it. Honker kissed her cheek like they'd never had an argument and passed her through the door.

Gosalyn had no idea why but Honker was acting like he'd claimed a massive battle victory.

"Oh, so it's going to be like that is it?" Gosalyn snorted, and glanced out to where he'd disappeared. She wanted to pin Honker down right now for the traditional 'how slow is too fast' relationship talk.

It was going to have to wait for later however, because Catlyn's soggy nappy was grossing her out too much. "Ugh, Catlyn, you must be swimming in that nappy." Gosalyn closed her door. "I've got to give you a proper bath and a proper dry out."

* * *

><p>Dodging the scattered mess of blocks and toy cars, Gosalyn took Catlyn to the ensuite and peeled her nappy off her. "Oh, this is just so much yuck."<br>"Sowemummy." Catlyn said regretfully.  
>"What happened, Catlyn? Did Honker dump you in the shower?" With two hands, Gosalyn got Catlyn free of the nappy, deposited her in the baking tray and then threw the nappy straight into the bin.<br>Catlyn nodded. "Bodies bad. Masigisumfinawfoo."

Gosalyn filled up the jug with warm water and doused her daughter with it. "Bored is bad, huh?" Gosalyn desperately rubbed the fluffy duckling soap into Catlyn's down. "Are you alright now?"  
>"Yahmummy."<br>Gosalyn paused, eyeing her now-behaving duckling. "Well, since you get so bored, Catlyn, why don't you have a go at getting yourself clean for the moment while mummy cleans the sink?"

"Ochay, mummy." Catlyn chimed and started splashing happily in the baking tray water. Gosalyn grabbed the vinegar spray bottle from under the vanity and wiped out the last traces of the filthy nappy. "Much better." Gosalyn approved of the streak-free sheen and put the cleaning tools back in the cupboard.

"Well." For a moment Gosalyn looked back at the shower behind her. "No one can ever say that Honker isn't inventive with his solutions." She glanced over where Honker had hung Catlyn's oversized red shirt on the towel rack to dry.

"Alright, let's get that soap out now." Gosalyn fetched a fresh jug of warm water for Catlyn and scooped her up, tipping out the old water before replacing her in the tray. "Do you like Honker, sweetie?" Gosalyn asked, starting to tip the jug of water over Catlyn.  
>"Yahmummy."<br>"Do you think he takes good care of you?"  
>"Yahmummy." Catlyn answered. "You too."<p>

Gosalyn finished getting the soap out of Catlyn's down and wrapped her up in her fluffy towel on the sink.

* * *

><p>There was a knock on the open ensuite door. Gosalyn glanced over at her father and then finished putting the nappy on Catlyn.<p>

"Gosalyn?" He looked from her to Catlyn and back. "Is everything alright now?"  
>Gosalyn shrugged at him. "She got a bit bored. It's my fault; I didn't take her bag with us."<br>"Ahma sig? Docca?" Catlyn asked looking between them with a frown.  
>"You're not sick, Catlyn; mummy gets bored too." Gosalyn shook her head and picked Catlyn up. "There's only one person that can help us." She claimed. "And that's Honker Muddlefoot." She gently pressed Catlyn's beak. "Boredom buster extraordinaire."<br>"Nahmohtawgig!" Catlyn begged, "Peas, mummy."

"Perhaps if you're going over there again today I had better baby-sit Catlyn." Drake offered in concern.  
>"Thanks, granddad."<p>

Gosalyn put Catlyn on the bed with her nice new nappy and turned back to her father standing in front of the bathroom.

"So," Drake started in a quiet voice. "She just exploded with boredom then?"  
>"Yep. I should have anticipated that it was going to be a three toy problem." Gosalyn answered simply, crossing the bedroom to the cupboard to find a clean shirt to put on Catlyn.<br>"I think we need to talk about this later." Drake decided.

"There's not many species that leave blank videos behind." Gosalyn stated grimly into the cupboard, realising that all Catlyn's clothes were now either on the line or in the hamper including the extra large red one hanging up on the towel rung in the bathroom. "That's got to help knowing that." She paused, still looking into the cupboard. Gosalyn did not want to face her dad directly when she said the next thing. "Meanwhile Honker's asked me out. Is that alright?"  
>Drake startled from his thoughts, "Hmm? Honker? Good idea. Why, he's already working on a solution right now." Drake said cheerily. "There's a kid with a level head."<br>He'd missed her meaning. "No, dad ..."

A creepy feeling hit Gosalyn and she glanced back to the bed. Catlyn was entertaining herself tracing the green and pink flower pattern on the bedspread with her fingers, getting precariously close to the edge. Gosalyn's heart jolted and she vaulted across the scattered toys.

"Oop!" Catlyn overbalanced.  
>Gosalyn snatched her out of the fall and cuddled Catlyn tight. "Oh, my little girl, I love you so much."<p>

Drake took the pastel purple shirt from Gosalyn's fingers and fitted it on Catlyn while she was still in Gosalyn's arms. The adult sized shirt from the cupboard hung like a pillowcase past Catlyn's feet. She wouldn't be practicing any walking this afternoon.

"There we are, sweetie." He scooped her out of Gosalyn's arms and, taking advantage of Catlyn's temporarily super-fluffy clean state he cuddled her warmly. "Bored!" Drake chuckled over Catlyn's head. "You're perfectly right, Gosalyn; it's just a minor setback. Hey, here's a plan: let's all have lunch, and then I'll tell Catlyn a couple Darkwing Duck and Gosalyn Mallard stories while you go over to sort out an anti-bored campaign with Honker. And later on this afternoon you kids can all work on another protection spell together with your mother." He bounced Catlyn in his arms for a moment, "That'll be fun, won't it, Catlyn?"

"Yayfuh!"

* * *

><p>"Dad." Gosalyn chased after him into the corridor, thinking about the other thing on her to do list which was to solve Grizlykoff and get her career back. "Now that I've ruled out everyone on my side of the list I've got something else I need to catch up on."<br>Drake took on a serious expression that mirrored hers, "Glad to hear it. I know you'll handle it great, Q."  
>"You always say that, dad." She leaned down and kissed his cheek.<br>"Go do what you have to do, champ." He said in a suddenly cheery Drake voice. "Knock some Mallard sense into them. Catlyn and I will put aside a plate of food for you to have when you get back."

Gosalyn smiled back at him and brushed her fingers over Catlyn's red hair. "I love you, Catlyn." She cooed and then stepped back, getting into work mode. "This shouldn't take too long." Gosalyn advised in a darker voice.  
>"There is a way to be sure." Drake answered in a similarly dark voice before he resumed his normal Drake Mallard voice, "Set your watch alarm to go off. I asked a friend of mine who has a bit more understanding of the bureaucratic brain. He says watch alarms are surprisingly effective. So long as S.H.U.S.H. always see you leave when it goes off it'll always work. Stick to the beeper and don't deviate. You'll get them trained right and we'll get you back home when you're supposed to be here."<p>

"Sounds great, dad." Gosalyn smiled back at him. "In that case I'll be back at fourteen hundred hours." She waved at Catlyn. "See you later, Catlyn, sweetie."  
>"Seeyayaytah mummy!" Catlyn cheerily waved back and Gosalyn made a portal back to the tower.<p> 


	87. Ch 8 Burning

**Burning Rubber**

* * *

><p>Quiverwing parked the ratcatcher on the empty Sunday Street and stormed up the steps into S.H.U.S.H. headquarters, looking for the fight of her life. Darkwarrior Mum had a job to do.<p>

"I am the Quack in the Dark!" The purple clad teenager announced loudly to the filing cabinets, the desks, the computers, the paper and most of all to the desk bound agents.

"I don't need an appointment! I am the Quiverwing Quack!"

* * *

><p>"Now that I have everyone's attention, I'm conducting a practical experiment, and you're all my guinea pigs." She pulled out the distraction tool from her utility belt and held it up. "If you would please observe, Agents; this tiny object in my hand is your common or garden every-kid-has-it-including-yours rubber ball. The question I challenge you with is: can you stop the raving lunatic from destroying your office?" She pegged the ball at the nearby wall and observed everyone's reactions.<p>

The ball went left, hit a pot plant knocking it off the person's desk, hit a computer screen, careened past someone's shoulder, hit the filing cabinet with a loud bunk and went right, it hit a coffee cup bowling it clean over, knocked the top file off a stack of In trays scattering paper on the floor with a loud scrunch, and eventually bounced down the corridor between the desks and back into Quiverwing's grasp.

Quiverwing straightened and glared at them all. "Not one of you stopped it, barely any of you even tried." She stepped over to the worst casualty. "This man's cup of coffee is dead! It met a tragic ending and not one of you did anything to stop it from happening, or try to stop the rubber ball culprit from potentially doing it again to someone else's coffee. That pot plant is in a critical condition and needs an emergency re-earthing to save its life! This is the exact reason why F.O.W.L. has been getting away with it for so long."

Quiverwing raised her voice even louder. "Because you're all just a bunch of mushrooms!" A pair of agents were standing in the doorway looking mildly shocked at what had just happened. "Oh, look, if it isn't field mushrooms." She twisted on her back heel and advanced on the director's office. With a twist of the knob, she shoved it open. It was now time for Darkwarrior Mum part two.

* * *

><p>The Quiverwing Quack blinked in surprise, staring at the extra unexpected occupant of the S.H.U.S.H. Director's room. "Director Hooter?"<p>

J Gander Hooter was sitting at the desk and Grizlykoff stood off to the side just as if it were seven months ago.

"Quiver-." The bear started in reprimand.

"O-oh, no you don't!" She rounded on Grizlykoff before he could finish her name, making sure she got up into his personal space. "You've got it all wrong! You don't get something for nothing, Grizlykoff! You don't have Steelbeak and I'll tell you why." She stepped back from him. "Think of every step you take as part of a tight itinerary." She advised crisply in S.H.U.S.H. terms. "Every choice you make is a value assessment. If I have two innocent lives to save but the plan on saving them will kill ten innocent others then what choice should I make? Well, go on then, you think you have an answer?"

"You should elect not to save them."

"Ha!" She pointed at him. "That is the wrong answer! The answer should be 'find another way to do it'! I never told you those were your only choices, you just didn't see past the ones I put to you. You can't think outside of the box, and that's where you're wrong. You don't make the grade, you can't cut the mustard!"

"Quiverw-." He rejected.

"You do not interrupt 'me', Grizlykoff!" Quiverwing crossed her arms, glaring furiously at him. "You don't have the teeth for it and that goes for everyone you've taught in this place! Regulations are great so long as they make sense and don't get in the way of a better choice. And that is a simple reality check. You're living in your happy little paper filled world. So that's fine. You stay there and push your paper. But leave the action to the agents on the scene, coz they're trained for it and they know what they're doing!"

Quiverwing turned to Director Hooter and saluted crisply at him. "Sir." She said, changing from Darkwarrior back to Quiverwing mode. "I assume because you're the one behind the desk, I should be talking to you about a new job contract. I want full rate three pip hourly wages, along with a completely unconditional written statement to that effect. And I'm best to leave Steelbeak for your field agents, if only so my point about the rubber ball can sink in and they might even improve from it."

"The Quiverwing Quack." Director Hooter addressed her formally in his kind voice. "What job do you have in mind for yourself?"  
>"Teaching S.H.U.S.H. cadets how to get the job done and properly." Quiverwing crossed her arms matter-of-factly. "If I can teach a duck to swim, then I'll have saved him from drowning for the rest of his life."<br>"You are prepared to teach a group of students the same age as you?"

Quiverwing paused, watching Hooter. This was Hooter's game again and she was more than happy to hand over the ball.

Softer Quiverwing asked; "What's my age again, sir?"  
>Hooter blinked at her and cleared his throat. "Well, it certainly makes much more sense than putting you in the class."<p>

"Sir-." Grizlykoff interrupted.

Quiverwing turned her head and glared at Grizlykoff. "Do you 'want' me to start up at you again? Because, you know, I could go round after round after round with you again and again and I tell you, Grizlykoff, I've learned the game you play, you won't win anymore. It's game over, Grizlykoff. You're dismissed."  
>Grizlykoff blinked at her. "I do not ..."<br>"You 'are' dismissed. For the moment, Agent Grizlykoff, Thank you." Director Hooter backed Quiverwing's command pleasantly.  
>"Yes, sir." Grizlykoff blinked at Quiverwing. "Ma'am." He saluted and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.<p>

Quiverwing broke into a smile and sat down in the visitor chair. "Oh, boy, am I happy to see you, sir."

Hooter smiled back at her. "Yes, it appears I actually have you to thank for that. Apparently the few words of clarity you exchanged with Grizlykoff after the debacle with the van collision that ended my rather unashamedly exciting retirement outing rather unashamedly ended my retirement. In no uncertain terms," he continued smiling at her, "I would personally like to thank you for your invaluable service. I'm in your debt."


	88. Ch 8 Debacle

**Left Wing: Part 88**

* * *

><p><strong>Debacle<strong>

* * *

><p>There, across the desk in the S.H.U.S.H. Director's chair, sat J Gander Hooter. The Quiverwing Quack smiled with incredible relief at this wonderful development. As far as the teenage crime fighter was concerned it was a heralding of sanity's return to St Canard.<p>

"I am quite sorry for what you've been put through over the last five months, Quiverwing." He sympathised.

Quiverwing shrugged it off and looked over at the Director's overflowing In Tray. "Is that the Steelbeak case, sir?"  
>"Yes. Rather a debacle, I'm afraid."<br>"If we have a double agent somewhere in our ranks," she warned him, "They'll be in there."  
>Hooter hesitated, "I have been through the matter a few times already, Quiverwing," he advised tentatively, "and let me assure you that while I am far from finished compiling my report all the failings are system related."<p>

"Fudge." Quiverwing cursed under her breath. "What an excuse."  
>"Indeed." Hooter agreed. "It is the bureaucrat's lament." He intoned, "Such excuses tend to work their way along the chain until falling into the hands of the first person of sufficiently responsible character."<p>

Quiverwing nodded in understanding. "So we need to train more responsible people."  
>"As a longer term solution I certainly agree. But as for now perhaps you could lend me some assistance in the matter?"<p>

"I can't close the Steelbeak case, sir." Quiverwing immediately discounted, sitting back. "I'm not the right person for the job anymore. I've gotten too close to the flame."  
>"You are aware that Agent Steelbeak may have played this situation to achieve this exact result?"<br>"Yes." She nodded at Hooter.  
>"So ... he's got you 'in the bag' as it were?"<br>"Yeah, he wins this round with me." Quiverwing smiled to herself, recalling the image of the rooster sitting at table eight like a port in a storm. "It was one half-truth I desperately needed to hear and he did a great job telling it."

Hooter gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment. "At any rate what we're discussing here is purely academic. I have already shut down the surveillance operation."  
>"Maybe you can you try again later?"<br>"Rather not." Hooter stated in an unusually curt manner. "There is simply no point in watching someone who is perfectly aware they are being watched."  
>"Wow." Quiverwing raised an eyebrow. "That's what dad said when Griz first reassigned me."<br>"Your father has many perfectly true insights, Quiverwing." Hooter frowned. "But I've found applying his insights to S.H.U.S.H. an endeavour with a varying success rate."

* * *

><p>They sat across the desk from each other, a bulky file in Hooter's In Tray to the left of Quiverwing, his computer screen over on the right, book shelves on the left and right walls, the window behind Hooter and the door and clock behind Quiverwing. All in all it was a pretty large room for an office.<p>

"Sir, if all the problems are system related and we don't have a double agent in the department then how come I couldn't get any backup? Grizlykoff can't be the blame for that."

"I would rather not go about putting blame on anybody, Quiverwing." Hooter roused her lightly. "But the simple fact is that you are a high profile agent and the original mission was a low profile, low priority low key operation."

"He didn't change the priority status!" Quiverwing eyed Hooter, "you mean Grizlykoff didn't check the priority status!" She blinked as Hooter continued his silent frown. "Did he even review the case before he gave it to me?" She asked with incredulity.

"Apparently his review was insufficient and his reprimand is in my report with all due formality." Hooter answered shortly. "However one must also look at the sub-optimal circumstances at the time. Once I was removed the Acting Director was doing both of our jobs and there was no double-checking arrangement in place."

"Wow." Quiverwing was stunned into silence. It made her spelling mistakes nothing at all.

The clock over on the wall ticked.

* * *

><p>"Drat." Hooter broke the silent interlude with a mild curse. "I really should never have left."<p>

Hooter sighed, looking over at the massive file taking up his In Tray. "My superiors simply did not gather the high profile intent of the original mission. Acting Director Grizlykoff understood it no more than they did. All that mattered to them was your exceptional record for closing cases. You were given the arguably futile task of making that happen."

He shook his head. "I can still say that I am irritated as I had the perfect arrangement and it is now well and sabotaged." He looked to the bulky file in his In Tray again for a moment before returning his gaze to Quiverwing. "I can't imagine how you must feel being set to a task as inconsequential as the matter of Agent Steelbeak himself."  
>Quiverwing gazed at him, slowly gathering the meaning of his words. "You were tapping him? You're saying that for five months I was chasing our own tap!"<p>

"Erm, yes." Hooter blushed. "Agent Steelbeak is, not to put too fine a point on it, extremely well-connected. There are grand scale plans in the works even as we speak and he ..." Hooter hesitated, "and it is quite a pity to have lost the insight he was providing us. I shall have to invent some entirely new method to get myself back up to speed."

* * *

><p>Hooter looked at his In Tray once again and let out a frustrated sigh. "Grizlykoff is a very big help to me, Quiverwing." He began like he was chanting some sort of mantra. "I really hope you can appreciate this fact." He sat back. "When I first took up office this entire department was in a mess everywhere I looked. I should be grateful that the problems are all filed in the one place and that our agents continue to uphold the moral standard."<p>

"I get it, sir. He's your backup." Quiverwing sighed, "But please don't ever leave him in charge again, Director, I really need to argue that point."

"Unfortunately my report will agree with you that he has rather reached his limit. This means that there is no one here in the St Canard branch able to take my place. Quiverwing, there must always be a viable replacement. In my report I need to have an answer to this dilemma."

"Well, you could put Doctor Bellum in. Clinical but caring." She offered in suggestion.

"Doctor Bellum has somewhat of an unpredictable nature ..." Hooter mused for a moment and then chuckled. "Should I propose that I will certainly need to have a different medical advisor!"

Hooter looked to her again, "Do you believe I should retire, Quiverwing?"  
>"Heck no, you're 'the guy'!"<br>"I beg your pardon?"

Quiverwing leaned forwards over the table. "This is the way I see it. You've got your puppets and you've got your puppeteer." She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers, pretending she was making a doll dance on the table top. "You might not be the guy right at the top, so you've got to keep your dancing shoes on. But I can tell you, sir. You're not the guy at the bottom and I know you have your dancing shoes on."

"What a fascinating image. A puppetted puppeteer."

She smiled at him and sat back in the chair.

"As well to that effect, I can offer on a personal note that I am not on health monitor. Doctor Bellum tells me that my constitution is quite hearty. My reviews are still six monthly like yours."  
>Quiverwing gaped at him. "Even though they tried to write you off?"<br>"I always delight in your company, Quiverwing." Hooter remarked with humour in his voice, "Being old-fashioned and suffering from old age are quite disparate things."  
>"If you're old-fashioned, sir," Quiverwing stated darkly, "that must make me medieval."<p>

He mused thoughtfully on that. "Well, whether they like yours and my methods or not, our next departmental review is five years away. The current matter is ensuring this report on the Steelbeak debacle has comprehensive solutions which we can then start implementing. "

Quiverwing nodded. "I'm relieved that they finally saw some common sense and brought you back."

Hooter blushed. "I appreciate your faith in me."


	89. Ch 8 Questions

**Left Wing: Part 89**

* * *

><p><strong>Questions<strong>

* * *

><p>"Uh, Quiverwing, now that we have reached some fresh clarity on the case perhaps we should move on to matters off the case. I have discussed this with your father, but he said I should wait and talk it through to you personally once you returned here. It doesn't excuse it, but the payroll department misplaced the form to adjust your pay to your change in duties."<p>

Quiverwing snapped back to attention. "Dad did, did he?"

"You may not believe it but the feather-raise I got when I received your anonymous letter was nothing compared to when I received the official letter from Attorney Euston with your father's signature on it."

She was agape with awe of her father. 'Way to go, dad.'

"I might just like to point out to you that you did not sign your letter. I did not know whose unfortunate case it was so I couldn't quickly rectify it. The use of your appropriate terminology was not what a cleaner would use and no one else wanted to claim it."  
>"It was an emotional decision. That's not something I'd like to admit to, but having my trust undermined has been an extremely personal attack on me and it's taken me a while to recover."<p>

"I understand. Dedication is a good thing but even that can go too far."  
>Quiverwing nodded. "Thanks. That's sort of what dad said too."<br>"Do you believe you've recovered sufficiently?"  
>Quiverwing nodded solemnly. "Who I am is who I have to be."<br>Hooter gazed back at her. "Then it's fortunate for the rest of us."

* * *

><p>The S.H.U.S.H. director cleared his throat and opened the second drawer of his desk. "Fortunately our payroll department and their upgraded system were able to reconstruct your wages based on the timesheets your father enclosed with his ... letter." Hooter handed Quiverwing an envelope from the drawer. "There is also a calculation sheet at how they arrived at the value on the cheque so you and your father can verify that the adjustment is correct."<p>

Quiverwing held the envelope stonily in her hands. "Well, that's very nice, sir, but did you happen to add a surcharge for Grizlykoff's ranting?"  
>"Erm, no; I do not believe there's a wage code in our payroll system to account for that."<br>"That's okay; I'll tell dad it was worth it to finally see you sitting back in that chair instead of the guy that made me need to take a serious holiday."  
>"I do apologise that he is rather abrupt but it is effective in instilling discipline in cadets."<br>"Abrupt is not the word I would use, sir." Quiverwing gaped at him. "And trying to make me normal?"  
>"It has always been Grizlykoff's belief in what he teaches as the best way."<br>"Common sense could help." She snorted.

"Nonetheless, his lack of headway with you surely contributed to the level of stress he was experiencing that night."

"That doesn't excuse it, sir, I'm sorry but I have to stand by my statement. The four of us nearly died from his not listening to me, and interfering with my efforts. That was reckless and foolhardy! If I submitted that on paper, I should think procedure would dictate a discharge. He shouldn't be on the field. That was reckless and foolhardy of him that night."

"I have already confined his duties to administration tasks. It is your verbal statement that formed the outlining basis for that decision, Quiverwing."  
>"Oh, that'll win me brownie points with him." She stated sarcastically. "I'll be fighting this war with him forever."<br>"However the way you wish to look at it, Quiverwing, I am confident you will manage it." Hooter granted.

* * *

><p>"Quiverwing ..." Hooter frowned, looking for the best way to phrase his next statement. "I must say I admire your steadfast will and determination and I have every belief that you would make good on any job that you elect to undertake in your life, but I really must insist that you finish your own schooling before you start training others."<p>

She looked up at him, smiling. "You do know how old I am, don't you, sir?"  
>"I ..." He sat back and blinked at her for a long moment, thinking for the perfect answer. "I am a puppeteer."<p>

She beamed at him. That had been a very smart answer, worthy of a S.H.U.S.H. director, Quiverwing silently commended.

* * *

><p>"While you finish your own secondary studies, Quiverwing, I can start training you to be a training supervisor and reserve the full time position for when you are ready." He hesitated. "Be assured of who will not be giving you any more tutoring and that, until you have graduated, I explicitly want you here on a part-time basis only."<p>

"Yes, sir." She replied brightly.

"Another thing that concerns me is the matter of what to do with Agent Grizlykoff now that you will be displacing him from his job in due course."  
>"As cadet trainer?"<br>"Not only that. As I recall you clearly demanded 'three pip' status. You will be working as an Assisting Director, if you think you are in fact up for the challenge?"

"Neat." Quiverwing smiled to herself. "I can see that I won't be bored when I come back in here." She paused. "Doesn't Grizlykoff like building aircraft, sir? Instead of training cadets, he could go back to designing and piloting. I recall dad saying once that he did a great job in that field."  
>Hooter smiled broadly at her. "Well spotted. You'll make an excellent Assisting Director. I haven't posed a single question today that you haven't suggested an answer for."<p>

"Thank you, sir." The alarm on her wrist-watch beeped and Quiverwing glanced back at the clock on the wall. "I do apologise, sir, but my schedule requires me to be elsewhere now." She stood up as she pocketed the letter he'd given her in her utility belt behind her notebook.

"Quiverwing, can I ask for a name?"  
>"A name, sir?" She queried back.<br>"Surely, Quiverwing, it takes no great genius to understand what prevented you from a more expeditious return to us."  
>"You'd be surprised." She beamed at him. "It's Catlyn, sir."<br>He nodded. "If she's anything like her mother, Catlyn will keep her on her toes."

"Don't worry, sir, I'm not taking my dancing shoes off anytime soon either."

* * *

><p>The Quiverwing Quack saluted and then flourished her cape, threw down a smoke canister, cast a portal and reappeared up at Darkwing Tower.<p>

"Yah-hoo!" She quacked in joy.

The Quiverwing Quack was back in the game.


	90. Ch 8 The End

**LEFT WING: PART 90**

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing realised she wasn't alone in the bridge tower and raced across the stone floor to find Darkwing Duck pondering a stack of books on his table.<p>

"What is it, Darkwing?" She asked him, looking over the piles. "Where's Catlyn?"  
>"She's with your mother," he answered, "They've started doing that protection spell I was talking about." He shook his head, "It's just-! Oh."<br>"What is it, dad?" Quiverwing asked.  
>"What do you mean 'what is it, dad'? You remember what happened today."<br>Quiverwing paused, backtracking over her memories. "I stuffed up. I'll never do it again. I nearly lost Catlyn."  
>"No. Good, but no." He stared at her. "Honker didn't tell you? I suppose he didn't want to alarm you when he'd only just settled Catlyn down."<br>"What, dad!" Quiverwing felt her face going red and her voice had risen to a near shriek.

"Honker didn't tell me what-didn't-he-tell-me?"

* * *

><p>For a split second, Darkwing disappeared. He then reappeared with a heavy wet woollen fabric and offered it to Quiverwing. Quiverwing saw it was Catlyn's dark blue bunny rug from the bedroom. She took it and picked up a corner, noticing a darker discolouration on some part of it. She picked up another corner of the wet rug and raised it, spreading it wide to view.<p>

There was a great black scorch mark in the centre of it the conspicuous size of her duckling.

"A fireball?" Her thoughts were moving so fast Quiverwing couldn't quite put anything coherent together. "So that's what Honker meant by Quantum Mechanics ... are you telling me my daughter ignited?"  
>"Fortunately bored ducklings, even of the spontaneously combustible variety, don't faze Honker. He's already asked to borrow my dad's old fire-fighter manual."<p>

Quiverwing was trying to imagine her baby girl on fire, Honker scooping her up with the rug and racing to the shower to put her out. 'Duckling out, shower off, duckling back onto the bedroom floor, rug ... what did he do with that? He must have thrown it out the window to hide it from me ... he must've been watching out the window to be sure I didn't spot him throwing it down!'

"My baby can't even walk and she's already spontaneously combusting. What the heck! Dad, last night the doctor told us there was nothing unusual about Catlyn."  
>"That was last night, Q." He answered, picking up a book and flipping through the pages, "clearly this is a unique result based on her father's non-avian genetics and your inherited boredom."<br>"What is he; a fire demon?"

"No, because then we combine the 'how'. He's starting to look like he might be my species."  
>Quiverwing paused, "Are you saying you did it, dad?"<br>Darkwing shook his head, "My sense of smell has never been-." He stopped. "Gos-a-lyn!"  
>"Wits end over here." Quiverwing apologised to his scandalised expression and held up her hands in surrender.<p>

* * *

><p>Quiverwing cleared her throat and moved on with the discussion. "There's got to be some dominant genes that aren't Mallard."<br>"Well, Catlyn is a natural at mimicry." Darkwing slapped the book shut and gazed fondly over at her. "And Quantum Mechanics is arguably the hardest discipline to master. And it didn't just happen suddenly 'because she was bored'; it happened because her thermostatic control hasn't developed yet. The reason she gets cold is the same reason that she over-heats." He paused, "It sounds like a pretty rare condition. That's got to suggest something special about her father."

"The 'hardest' discipline," Quiverwing gaped at him. "You're instilling me with tons of confidence, dad." She said sarcastically.  
>"So your kid has started with the hardest trick in the book. Big deal," he shrugged and put the book back on the stack, "Launchpad's kid is just the same."<br>"Ace doesn't explode out of boredom." Quiverwing frowned.  
>"No, she just crashes hugely expensive freighter jets into hanger walls. Or well, she used to which is sort of the point I'm trying to make."<br>"... It's only a minor setback?" Quiverwing frowned at him.

"That's the spirit." He grinned at her. "Come on. You still haven't had your lunch yet and Catlyn's waiting to give it to you."

Quiverwing paused after a step towards the changing area. "Hooter's back."  
>"I know."<br>"Grizlykoff had me chasing a S.H.U.S.H. tap all this time."  
>Darkwing clenched his beak. "Boy; was that ever an infuriatingly humiliating discovery."<br>"It was just a job." She dug out her unopened envelope from her utility belt and handed it to him. "You did scare the heck out of Hooter though."

"Then I've done 'my' job properly." Darkwing took her paycheque and headed off towards the computer platform. "Nobody messes with us Mallards. Director Hooter needs to know that just as much as anyone else."  
>"Thanks, Darkwing Duck."<br>He looked back over his shoulder and smiled. "Are you still my little girl?"

"Always. I will always be your little girl," The Quiverwing Quack affirmed, "And I wouldn't have it any other way." She smiled back at him and then went to get changed for lunch with her own little girl.

* * *

><p>The End<p> 


	91. Epilogue

**Left Wing: Part 91**

* * *

><p>EPILOGUE<p>

* * *

><p>It had been two quiet weeks of going to school like nothing had changed in her home life and Saturday had come around again. With one teaching lesson with Hooter already under her belt, the teenager was nothing short of mad keen for her upcoming career move.<p>

Now Scarlet was sitting in a student share-house garage beside Crowder and Ducklet as they discussed the last audition.

Crowder paused. "Why are you taking minutes, Scarlet?"  
>She glanced down at her pages of notes. "I'm afraid it'll take a lot longer to reread than that."<br>"Are we missing something?" Ducklet asked.

"I'm writing so many notes because you're inconsistent in your approach. One candidate and you're discussing whether he could do slow songs, another candidate and it's whether or not she can hit a b flat without breaking something."

"They pick their own songs. They make us think of different things." Ducklet explained as though that was an excuse for it.

Scarlet glanced over at Crimson, sitting happily in her stroller. "I'm starting to worry about you, Crimson. You've barely said 'boo' all day except for your lunch."  
>"Boo?" Crimson mimicked looking up at her with a quiet smile on her face.<br>"Must be the tunes." Ducklet shrugged.  
>"Yeah, she's definitely been having an entertaining day." Crowder agreed.<p>

"Luck is on our side." Scarlet stated cryptically.

Scarlet opened up her beak to give them some more advice about the perils of doing an investigation with an inconsistent approach but Crowder pointed over his can of Kuku cola at the garage door.

"Here's another one." Crowder put down his drink on the wooden plank sitting on two paint cans that was their table.

Scarlet turned back to face the front and smiled as she saw her best friend walk in through the doorway. 'Way to go, Honkman!' She silently cheered. 'That was the hard part!'  
>"Mummy?" Crimson pointed at Honker.<br>"Yes, sweetheart. Another guitarist is going to play for us."

The guys introduced themselves and then added in Scarlet. "So what's your name?"

"Uh, Honker Muddlefoot." Honker said with some hesitation and pushed his non-existent glasses back up his beak. "I take it from the wording on your flyer you may be looking for someone who can play hard rock as well as rock and roll."

"It's not so tough; it just means your songbook's got to be longer. Do you write your own songs?"

"I'm not much of a poet." Honker said in a measured voice. "In fact, I'm really actually a scientist." He turned and plugged in his red guitar. "I know you've been listening to hard rock all day and that's what you're expecting me to play and I could. But the baby looks like she's already had a long day, so I think this song is better for her." He strummed his guitar and started a slow, simple tune.

_"Why are there so many__  
><em>Songs about rainbows<em>  
><em>And what's on the other side<em>  
><em>Rainbow's are visions<em>  
><em>They're only illusions<em>  
><em>And rainbows have nothing to hide<em>  
><em>So we've been told and<em>  
><em>Some chose to believe it<em>  
><em>But I know they're wrong wait and see<em>_

_Someday we'll find it__  
><em>The Rainbow Connection<em>  
><em>The lovers, the dreamers and me<em>_

_Who said that every wish__  
><em>Would be heard and answered<em>  
><em>When wished on the morning star<em>  
><em>Somebody thought of that<em>  
><em>And someone believed it<em>  
><em>And look what it's done so far<em>  
><em>What's so amazing<em>  
><em>That keeps us star gazing?<em>  
><em>What do we think we might see?<em>_

_Someday we'll find it__  
><em>That Rainbow Connection<em>  
><em>The lovers the dreamers and me<em>_

_Have you been half asleep__  
><em>And have you heard voices?<em>  
><em>I've heard them calling my name<em>  
><em>Are these the sweet sounds that called<em>  
><em>The young sailors<em>  
><em>I think they're one and the same<em>  
><em>I've heard it too many<em>  
><em>Times to ignore it<em>  
><em>There's something that I'm supposed to be<em>_

_Someday we'll find it__  
><em>The Rainbow Connection<em>  
><em>The lovers, the dreamers and me"<em>_

Crimson dropped her juice bottle and started clapping.

Scarlet grinned at Crimson. 'Yep, yep. I definitely have a very smart baby.'

* * *

><p>"The guy sure can carry the tune." Ducklet said thoughtfully as Honker unplugged his guitar. "And that's one song you can't sing, isn't it Scarlet?"<p>

"Not my voice. I quack and squawk but I can't croon. My old man can, but he's not into this gig stuff." She confirmed carefully without entering into the debate over Honker.

"Just a double check, Honker-dude." Crowder raised Honker's attention.  
>"Sure, uh, Crowder?"<br>"That guitar can do hard rock when you're handling it too, right?" Crowder asked.  
>"Uh, that would be an affirmative."<p>

"Well," Ducklet said quietly, "he's better than the others or he's at least smart on his song choice so he's in on my books. Crowder?"  
>"What do you reckon, Scarlet?" Ducklet turned his head to ask her.<br>"I'm taking notes. I've told you I'm taking an impartial approach to this situation."

"That's the first time Crimson's clapped today so I'm taking this as a unanimous vote." Crowder looked over at Scarlet. "If you don't object, I think we'll get this guy in."

Scarlet smiled nonchalantly back at them and turned her head to Honker, suppressing all excitement from her voice. "Are you up for it, Muddlefoot?"

Honker nodded.

"And while the science of deduction is a lot of fun in fiction," Ducklet stated apprehensively, "I hope you'll take this with the utmost respect but I do not want to reread your notes from today."

"Hey, no problems." Scarlet accepted with a lark in her voice, "but I'll keep them long enough so I can call the guys all back and let them have some of your constructive feedback." It was one of the things Hooter was teaching her about and she was glad for the real live practice.

Scarlet started scouting around for the missing drink bottle. "Where has it gone, Catlyn?" Scarlet muttered looking even further under everyone's feet.

Crowder groaned. "Hey, you know you live in a different world, right Scarlet?"  
>"We all do." Honker interrupted.<p>

Saved, Scarlet kept looking for that bottle, noticing a stray nail on the cement floor but no sign of the bottle.

"We all live in our own worlds," Honker continued, "we just go around visiting each other. But that makes me want to ask, if you're not getting along, why you three are still sitting together looking for a fourth player?"

"Because she's-! I-I mean, she's ... you know."  
>"Ah." Honker said sagely. "Because she's living in a different world from you and you find the notion irresistible."<br>Crowder let out the breath he was holding. "That too."

Scarlet caught a glimpse of the bottle behind a shifting white sneaker and sat back up. "I'm sorry to interrupt you guys, but I think the bottle has gone up your end."

The college boys looked down and Ducklet picked up the bottle and handed it to Scarlet.

"I've got to go," Honker advised, "but should we meet up tomorrow?"  
>"Sure, here after one? Not before." Crowder gave Scarlet a pointed look. "We aren't morning people."<br>Honker nodded and waved at Crimson. "Bye bye, Crimson. See you later."

"Byeeonga!" She waved back at him and he left, carrying his guitar back to his car.

"Well that was weird." Crowder remarked.  
>" 'Was' weird? Jon, this whole thing is a Salvador Dali painting, only we're in the picture. As for me I'm just sitting here taking it all on sound value." He pointed at the garage door. "Scarlet, he's pretty shy. You think he'll survive if we break out for the opening act of a concert?"<p>

Scarlet grinned in confidence. "Shy? I don't think so; he walked in here and played for a bunch of strangers, didn't he?"  
>"Three motleys, but could he handle three hundred?"<br>"I reckon." Scarlet phrased her answer carefully, "a guy like that is one of those responsible people who study too much and always do their homework for their teachers. If you gave him the job he could probably save the world from invasion by an intergalactic brain-sucking alien mobster ring. He wouldn't have walked in here if he wasn't prepared to face the possibility of a live audience."

"Sorry, Jon." Ducklet said.  
>"What?" Scarlet asked in confusion.<br>"You're smitten." Ducklet told her.  
>"I'm what!" Scarlet gaped incredulous at him.<br>"You know, head over heels."

Scarlet let her temper cool. "What's wrong with that?" She shook her head and looked down at Crimson. "It's time to get home, I think; it's been a very long day for you, Crimson. Are you still warm honey?"  
>"Wahm mummy."<br>"I'll take that as a yes. See you tomorrow, guys."

"Sure, we'll be here." Ducklet said.  
>"Sure looking forward to our first gig together, too." Crowder added.<p>

"Yeah." She grinned. "Me too." She turned and headed out of the garage with the stroller.


End file.
